Of Winter Wolves Who Loved To Run
by zmajoljupka
Summary: Bishop/OC Who could even attempt to understand, the heart of a wolf? My first ever attempt on fanfiction, please read and review. Also some Casavir background : follows game storyline with minor changes BEING REWRITTEN!
1. Merdelain as it once was

Disclaimer: _Of Winter Wolves Who Loved To Run _is a fictional story and I do not claim any of the characters as my own, they were developed and are owned by Obsidian and Atari and all other ownership holders for the game Neverwinter Nights 2

About the story:

This is my first published fan fiction _ever_ so any comments would be _greatly _appreciated, furthermore, English is not my native language so I apologize for any mistakes.

The story is a Bishop/OC fiction written from 3rd person.

I always thought the OC should have more of a background in the story and have tried to give a short narration and some explanations of her decisions throughout the storyline in the coming chapters.

The NPCs are hopefully in character, I've tried to make their reactions and personalities as much in game as possible while adding their own views to certain situations.

I would greatly appreciate it,

PLEASE REVIEW

* * *

Of Winter Wolves Who Loved To Run

Ch.1 Merdelain-as it once was

A cricket's song hummed by the play of evening wind, murky waters reflected sunlight dying over the tall and thick treetops. The soil was soft beneath her feet, smelling of moss and fresh dirt. Her fingers lingered over the thin dagger she always hid in her dirty boots. The girl's green eyes followed the movements of her foster-father with concentration and she mimicked his features as she crept toward the other end of the murky waters. Daeghun's form was wrapped by the evening mist; a frail elven hand motioned her to move. Among the silence of Merdelain they loved each other best, without words and without memories.

Daeghun's choice to teach her the hunt came hard; even now she was of too gentle a heart to slay animals in the Mere. He allows her this. She had learned the preparations of the dead beasts, skinning and storage of meat for longer periods of time; she could bend and form leather of the water serpent into trinkets he allowed her to keep. She understood the necessity of their death for their survival and for an 11 year old girl, it was enough. With patience he turned her into a good tracker with a keen survival sense and her fascination by the beasts of the Mere could be rivaled, perhaps, only by the druids.

The old wild elf spent quite a few nights thinking weather training her to become a ranger was perhaps in her best interest or asking the elven druids to take her as an apprentice, it was high time she learned a trade…yet he also knew that forcing such a decision would serve to no good purpose.

_She_ had to make the choice.

He watched the girl as she moved through the water, her celestial eyes almost glowing in the mist and her messy bun pulling back the gold-copper hair. She was neither human nor elven but her features seemed an amalgamation of both, child to an elven mother and a celestial father.

He scanned the surroundings to make sure she was safe, even many years later he would worry when she went into the Mere, but he never gave a hint to his uncertainty so she would not learn fear. Daeghun also knew that too heavy a hand in her upbringing would only instill contempt, so he rather showed her everything he could and taught her good judgment. It was the way he was raised and it was the only way he knew how to raise her.

The deer peeked its head in the distance, the frail young would not be hunted but both she and her foster-father gazed at it with amazement. Their kind rarely wandered into the swamp from the higher forest surrounding the Mere and the girl watched bedazzled. The young was accompanied by its mother; soft brown fur tracked down its body and its thin legs had trouble in the shallows. Upon the hasty flight of birds from all around them they stirred and the small herd ran towards the edge of the Mere, back to their homeland. She watched them run, jumping over fallen logs and splashing water as they went, disappearing into the mist… She gazed over to Daeghun who stood with bow above one of the beasts. The one that lay was old and had a wounded leg, he endangered the heard and she understood why Daeghun chose him. In the shallows of the Mere she kneeled by the animal, placed her hands upon its flesh and whispered a prayer to the evening wind. It too, was something Daeghun had learned to tolerate from her; she thanked every beast that it gave their life for theirs. The aasimar stood than and smiled faintly. "_Good_" was all her father said.

Occasionally he would praise her and commemorate a birthday with teaching her a new skill or allowing her to spend a few nights with him and his hunting party out in the Mere. Presents weren't part of their routine; coins, gowns, amulets and trinkets were earned rather than given. They tied the deer's legs to a long pole and carried him together; Daeghun carried a water snake she caught in a satchel as well. They moved slowly and she twitched and gazed in the direction from which some branches crashed into the water. In the silence of the Mere even such innocent sounds could be signs of coming danger. _Fear _was always with her, a good teacher.

Up until she turned 10 if she had a nightmare Daeghun would allow her to sleep beside him, even though it was against the customs of his people. Yet they shared the same nightmares and the shadows she would dream, rising from the murky waters to take her struck a note of compassion in his faltered heart. He wanted to tell her about her mother…about everything…but he couldn't, he couldn't tell her they were dead because of her…not while she was that young and later…not ever.

The deer and the water snake were worked so they would not deteriorate. Daeghun took on the bulk of the work for as night fell she had other duties to attend. By the light of the fireplace and oil lamps on the table, while Daeghun worked the fur she sat tiredly. A smudge of dirt on her cheek she forgot to wash; reading aloud Tarmas's lessons of herbs and magical creatures. He taught her elven and she learned the language quickly but even in their home they rarely used it, Daeghun preferred not to. When she voiced elven words her voice reminded of his wife and he didn't want to be reminded. Once she was finished he gave her the serpent's skin. She would form it into a sheet for the Dagger Daeghun promised for her 12th birthday.

The aasimar would dare ask he tell her a tale from his youth before she went to bed but mostly Daeghun declined. He did tell her, her name, Raviel, was given after an astral city her mother visited and found the most beautiful place in the world. It was the only thing he revealed to her on her celestial origins. He had never laid eyes on her father. Even though Esmerell spoke with much love of him, when he did not come, when the mother of his child, need him the most, Daeghun grew a deep etched resentment toward the man. He kept his opinion to himself, not wanting to burden the child any further.


	2. Merdelain as she left it

Ch 2 Merdelain- as she left it

That morning, 10 years later, sunlight broke in through the windows, tickling her face, frightening away sleep and forcing her to squint as she awoke. Green eyes pried unwillingly on one of the few days a year she was allowed to sleep in. The huge white farmer shirt that doubled as her nightgown wrapped itself around her with the blanket, trapping her on the bed. She opened the window just at her bedside and smelled the somewhat chilly autumn air. Fall was her favorite time, if not for the fair when Daeghun was particularly irksome. She finished her morning routines in a basin of cold well water she prepared the evening before and gazed at her somewhat new armor. It was only 3 years ago she found out what class she even belonged to and Retta Starling fashioned her something she though was appropriate.

Daeghun taught her what he knew best and her survival skill along with her inherit superior eyes and hearing would have made for an excellent ranger, yet even now, at 21 she still declined to kill unless in was a _coupe de grace_. It was the point of one of her and Daeghun's often debates…which could last for days on end. She could also cast the occasional spell, without practice or incantation but Tarmas swore there wasn't an arcane drop in her body. She worked with brother Merring for a while, finding solace in healing but most patients, especially the dying ones, would sense fear when she lay on hands; they swore it would get colder and death crept closer. While Bevil was mastering his sword and Amie began casting her first complex spells she seemed to remain good only at cooking and painting imaginary beasts upon old leather skins, for what Harbormen had no use.

It was on High Harvest Fair that Daeghun's old friend returned. The man was old and his eyes were burden with sorrow. He came to find the body of his brother. Daeghun, without the slightest bit of compassion, told him it was impossible to find his brother, who died somewhere in the Mere during the war. Indeed beneath the trees there were many corpses but they would not be what the man was looking for. The day the man went Daeghun followed so this one would not loose his life as well, yet forbade her strictly to come along. She did not listen, the eyes of the man haunting her every moment; there was something inhuman about them. Using the tracking skills Daeghun taught her she followed them deep into the Mere. She found the man weeping by one of the trees and Daeghun oddly out of place, scanning the surrounding lands with a face of annoyance.

As she knelt the waters of the Mere became oddly warm and as she touched the surface with her fingers a red haze filled the air and fires burned around her, hot and threatening. Stench of blood and burnt skin floated in the air; it was a vile smell that made her nauseous. A man sat perched up on one of the nearby trees, a gapping wound in his torso, blood trickling down his mouth. It was the first time she saw a man in such a state. He said nothing as he slipped beneath the waters of the Mere. Her vision cleared and cold, crisp, fresh air filled her nostrils. She wavered and Daeghun gazed at the revealing sound. "_Lass, what-" _But she did not hear his words; instead a muffled shouting could be heard in the distance and banging against a glassy surface. She walked through the water until the man gazed up at her, young and healthy, knocking at the surface of the water as against glass. She shivered and almost jumped back, instead stretched a hand out toward him after gathering some courage. A shimmering man pulled out of the waters, gazed at his brother for a moment, until this one smiled and said: "_I knew you would come._ "The apparition crumbled into old bones that fell back in the waters. "_I told you Daeghun…I knew he was here."_

Daeghun only gazed back at his child who crashed into the water; a high fever shaking her body and a deathly paleness creeping over her skin. For seven days Merring attempted to nurse her but to no avail, she was not recovering. During those days Daeghun disappeared from the village and not even his hunting party could find a clue of him. On the seventh night Daeghun returned and removed a tiny bag of powder from his robes. There was barely enough of it there to sprinkle over her eyes but in a matter of hours she recovered.

That night, privy only to Merring and Raviel herself he told her she was a Spirit Shaman. It meant death would always closely follow and spirits would reveal their secrets. Merring remained silent for a while as did the girl, what from still being weak what from the odd news he brought her. "_There is no one, "_Merring whispered "_in this village to guide you."_ She nodded; understanding her skill would either grow with her…or not at all since there was no one to show her. Daeghun never spoke of the incident again and no one ever found out where he went for the powder that saved her.

On Harvest Fair she found Daeghun by the fireplace, gazing aimlessly into the flames. She knew, even if he'd never admit it, that he had nightmares too. When it came to the worst he would run almost feverish, even shouting in his sleep. She'd play a tune on the lute than; the only one she knew, an old elven lullaby and he would stop shaking. He never knew this and she would never tell him. She didn't forget to take the furs before she left.

Bevil and Amie, now that was a sight; they used to play as kids and were the closest friends she had. Amie with her dreams of Neverwinter, They and even Skyrim. Bevil who wanted to do good by everyone, forgetting himself in the process… She loved both of them dearly but part of her wished they wouldn't be the only friends she'll ever have. That sun drenched day was her last happy memory, without a worry in the world. Entertaining the kids, making Tarmas recite that silly rhyme, having an outright brawl with the Mossfelds… It was the last time her laughter was unburdened…

* * *

She walked slowly now, holding the piece of silver tightly in her pocket, approaching the Weeping Willow Inn, listening to the wind for any sign from her pursuers.

The dwarf was sturdy and funny and for a while calmed her down before the reality of her position barraged down the door,

"Why lass, trouble seams to follow you. What' ya say we join forces, we're heading in the same direction?"

"Alright, it would be safer." She was glad she didn't have to take the road alone and the dwarf was mighty experienced with that axe of his. As they neared the fort she must have heard about every tavern brawl this side of Faerun.

"An that's how I earned the scar on me palm. I tell ya, the last time I used a tankard on a half-orc head."

"What about your homeland, you didn't even mention it." The dwarf went silent for a while

"Aye lass, that's a hard story, one day I might tell you." She didn't press it further as the high walls of the fort appeared before them. Sharp cut logs pointing at the sky. They were massive and foreboding.

"Look there, seems an uneven fight." She nodded gazing at the distance. The soldiers circled the woman, a tiefling if she wasn't mistaken. She read some books Tarmas allowed on the races of Faerun and remembered it stated they should not be trusted.

"I won't let you murder her in cold blood." Raviel said it bravely but her heart skipped a beat or two in the process. She wasn't sure how she even survived up until now, her cantrips and lesser spells were pathetic and the dagger was no mighty weapon at all.

"Well, it seams we found more bandits. Attack men, I'll sort out the story later!"

Her fingers gripped the dagger and she immersed her body into the light of the sun. The flame seemed to surprise them and a few quick stabs and slashes seemed to cause the necessary damage. Khelgar cut through the remaining like butter. Blood sprayed her clothes, droplets landed on her face. Death. She closed her eyes…after the Gith and the Duergar and Galen's mercenary guards these where the next men she killed… and the stranger thing was…she felt no remorse at all.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it; no one should be treated like that."

"Hey! You're _nice_! I don't mean to sound surprised but well, I am!" Neeshka's words that day signed their partnership in their travels. Besides, Khelgar's and her bickering was somewhat funny and she generally took their words with little heed. The important thing was when danger came they had each other's back.

The soft grass of the fort proved a good place to rest and they accepted all the jobs offered within the sturdy wooden walls. Now that Vallis hung there, like a bad omen, they sat and watched sundown. Neeshka gazed at the gold and jewels they liberated from the bandits and Khelgar sharpened his axe in silence. Raviel gazed at her dagger over the fire, the tattered sheets of a serpent skin and its poisoned edge. The flames of that fire made certain she understood her life as she knew it was over. With the hanging man a night was coming and even the spirits of the land were in uproar. She did not speak of it to her new friends, they thought she was a wizard and she didn't mean to fill them in just yet.

As she remembered the shadow priest her skin crawled… the flames that surround his flesh… a pyre of spirits that remained captured and he abused their power. As they fought him those spirits called out to her and she knew she had to release them. Whatever he was, it was not natural.

"Mighty fine meal there Raviel, haven't eaten so good in a while." She smiled thanks to the dwarf who put his axe away.

"Where are we off to next? I'm just dying to see our next loot."

"Highcliff and then Neverwinter!" Her eyes glassed over as she said it, the streets of Neverwinter, legend in her home town. It was the place where the brave and the righteous would go, Cormic and Lorne before him.

The woman's head turned to behold a cloaked figure; the others had not seen him. His face was hidden as he stood there. She raised three fingers in greeting whispering elven words beneath her breath and the shadowed man answered before disappearing after the passing of a loaded cart.

"Who are you waving to, there ain't no one there." Khelgar pointed with his axe chewing on some dwarven spice before spitting it on the ground.

"That's disgusting Khelgar."

"Get over yerself hellspawn."

"Hellspawn, oh please, that's not even an insult it's a fact, like me calling you dwarfy." Raviel just laughed…

The man was Daeghun's friend, she saw him once after following Daeghun into the forest, also against his best wishes. Daeghun never found out she was there but the man found her as she was returning to the house. Among the tall trees he greeted her the same way as now and in elven greatly praised her skill. He was the most beautiful creature she had seen and his golden hair fell down his back in streams. His eyes were blue like the ice of dawn and his elven ears were decorated with silver earrings. His bow was rich and the strings silver. He was a strange wild elf and a Harper. He said that, with such skill, one day he may have work for her. Then he vanished into the Mere and she never told Daeghun they spoke… Perhaps, she though, he'll tell Daeghun she's alright for now.


	3. Neverwinter city of the brave

Ch 3 Neverwinter city of the brave

The ship rocked upon the waves, she gazed in the distance, proud and happy she could build a peace between the men and the lizardlings. There was no need for war between them; men could live in peace with the world. The wind played with her golden hair and the murmur of the sea sang almost a lullaby to her senses. The sea, she watched in awe, her soul half in pain half in longing, she had never seen it before. The waves licked the sky and the colors of blue dripped into each other; crowned by a golden dawn. Faintly in the distance land could be seen, dark and hard against the horizon.

"Hey, you've stood there all day, are you alright?" Neeshka's voice was half interested, half bored.

"I'm fine, I've just never seen the sea before."

"Never?" The shock could be heard all over deck. "Yeeesh, where are you from?!" It was a snort, joke question and Raviel snickered "The swamp-"

"Seriously? Well that explains why you're such a goody two-shoes, that small town upbringing really brain-washes you."

The woman smiled at the tiefling's expressions and the manner in witch she spoke. "Indeed, you know how it is, steal a cookie and you get to kneel in the rye." It was a joke but Neeshka took a moment.

"Oh, that was a joke, hehe, right….weeeeell you know _I_ was raised by priests." Raviel listened to the tale smiling as Neeshka told it. Her companions were a lot of fun and she was glad she met them. Sometimes unwillingly she'd stare at the tiefling's horns or tail.

"Can you, I mean, move that at will?"

"Oh yeah, I just forget about it sometimes." The horned woman smiled looking at the aasimar. Neeshka wasn't sure yet what to make of such a strange person but she needed the company and thought she'd give her a chance. She gazed toward her home town, Neverwinter, unsure if it was be smart returning; at the same time she didn't want to leave a group where she wasn't treated like a demon…well, the dwarf excluded. Besides, she already got a bunch of gold and she could handle anything Leldon threw at her.

Khelgar was below, the nausea rooted him in place. He spent the entire voyage holding on for dear life, swallowing down his returning lunch.

Raviel gazed at the woman meditating on the ship's deck. Elanee, the druid. Her fingers played on the hilt of the dagger, she had noticed the druid following her from West Harbor and she didn't like it. She took her offer only to keep an eye on her and Neeshka hit the nail on the head when noting it better she walk with them rather than behind them.

* * *

The city rose before them, the statues on the docks first capturing her attention. A sharp wind played with her cloak, brisk cold air bit her cheeks and the smell of worked iron and freshly caught fish filled her nostrils. The creaks of the docks and the large ships pulling into town were mesmerizing and filling the air with life. The biggest ship before Highcliff she ever saw was a small dingy Harbormen used to go fishing on some deeper lakes in the Mere.

"By the Gods, thank everything for some solid ground beneath my feet!"

"The land is so unnatural here; the wood and stones…as if they've been silenced."

The elven woman loved nature without a doubt but something about her demeanor was odd. She seemed to hold many secrets while wanting to be privy to all of theirs. The aasimar didn't hear her at the moment, rather gazed at the large buildings around her.

"Oh please, Khelgar, it didn't stop you from eating! And you, sorry this is not the swamp of dead men you grew up in!"

"Oy I'm happy with me weight, goat-girl; at least _I_ wont be blown away with the wind."

"Well, the ship wasn't, we rocked from side to side as you changed cots-"

"It's huge!"

Neeshka burst out laughing at Raviel's comment "This is only the Docks, the city stretches over the river."

"Aye, it's passable, for humans. A proper city goes DOWN not UP."

"We like the sun you mole rat; anyway I may not have any good memories but it's home."

"We have to find The Sunken Flagon."

"Oh it's not far, down there I think." They followed the rogue to a large colorful building. It smelled of burnt wood from the torched building beside it and weak ale. The shaman pulled her cloak closer to her body and took a deep breath, examining her face in one of the windows. She fixed her wavy hair best she could before pushing the door open. The stench was heavy, of mixed foods and alcohols. The half a dozen patrons or so barely passed them a gaze. The only familiar smell was that of dirt and moss and it came from the ranger in the corner. Still, his eyes were darker than most, her instinct told her to stay away. The elf by the bar looked nothing like Daeghun, his clothes were dirty beyond belief and his skin reeked of liquor. His eyes though, unlike Daeghun's were very lively and relaxed. The bar rag was propped on his shoulder and she approached him slowly. Neeshka went to sit in the chair by the fireplace and Khelgar was already at the bar ordering big and heavy while the druidess lingered by the door.

"Hello, I'm looking for the owner of the Sunken Flagon." She coughed a bit to straighten her meager voice.

"If you're here for debts you should know he ain't here and he's an old drunk who hasn't got a single penny-"

She stopped him mid monologue "Daeghun sent me."

"Daeghun" His voice changed and he became almost thoughtful. "that's a name I hadn't heard in a while."

"I'm Raviel-"

"What did you say your name was?"

"Raviel."

"By the Gods! Sal, a drink for everyone on the house! Esmerell's daughter coming to see me… I would never have imagined it. So you survived Daeghun all these years?! How can Uncle Duncan help ye lass?"

"I've brought this shard and I've come in search of yours." Her emerald eyes pierced his. That night by the fires of the inn she listened to the lute of the bard wrapped in her thoughts. Sand took the shards, now it was only a matter of time…and than what? The elven wizard's sharp tongue was entertaining; he bedazzled her with his wit.

She gazed into the flames while without looking threw a gold coin across the room and into the instrument's sheet.

"Wow!" Neeshka exclaimed "How did you do that?"

"An old trick" Raviel smiled. "Don't look, listen."

Neeshka focused for a moment and threw the coin but it ended in a patron's tankard of ale. "Darn, waste of good money."

They hadn't noticed The Ranger watched the display of skill intently, snorting to himself at the tiefling's display.

"Where's Khelgar?"

"Here I am, I went to fetch us some drinks."

"Did you spike it?"

Khelgar rolled his eyes at the tiefling. They took their tankards slammed them together to a cheers and downed the foamy liquid. It tasted bitter and foul but that was exactly what she needed. Elanee denied them company, rather went to meditate in the nearby patch of trees. Raviel was unsure weather to allow her to leave, she might just as well have been betraying their location to their enemy…she did appear in a horribly _opportune_ moment.

"We should find some work while we're here, my pouch is getting light."

"Work?" Neeshka mused bewildered" We could just hit one of the houses, of course we'd have to leave stumpy behind because he causes horrendous noise by just breathing."

"That's because I don't steal or backstab. I like it when they hear me coming; gives them the fair chance of preparing." He grunted into his beard.

"Yeah that's why you'll end up in a shallow grave some day!" The tiefling hissed in his direction.

"We all die lassie, sooner or later ain't that much of a difference." Khelgar spat over the polished axe, hard words stated not feared.

"Well, _I_, would rather it be later, don't you agree Raviel?" Neeshka twirled her tail nervously as she asked it, twitchy eyes seeking approval.

"You don't choose when you die, that time is chosen for you. It's the why of it that matters." Brother Merring often said it and the aasimar took the words by heart even though the rest of the folks in the Mere had little time for Merring's sermons.

"Wise words lass." Khelgar mused in his tankard. He didn't mean to ruin the moment but as Raviel said it his mood suddenly flopped. It were the exact same words his elder used to tell him.

"Chosen? No one chooses my path for me." Neeshka wasn't letting down, she was annoyed at the lack of practicality from her companions.

Raviel smiled as she looked at Neeshka "Of the few of us your path was probably chosen…but you can change it with your choices." She had no idea as she said it, how hard a joke fate played on her.

"What do you mean my path was chosen?"

"She means your blood." The dwarf thought it obvious as he voiced it.

"How can you!? _I_ thought you were different and you're judging me just as much as he is." Her phrasing of I was prolonged as if she was announcing herself.

"No I'm not." She half shouted at the girl. "Fact is, demon blood pulls you to certain decisions, it's _you_ who decides what you'll do. I'm just saying you have a tougher time at it than most of us!"

"Oh" Neeshka answered silently, pissed a bit at what was being rubbed in her face. Demon blood had _nothing_ to do with her choices in life, she was certain of it…well, perhaps that one time and… She slumped a bit at the fact the strange swamp girl might be right.

"I'm sorry I shouted; I'm just tired."

"Yeah we all are. I'm gonna hit the sack."

Raviel nodded "What about you Khelgar?"

"I'll hang around a bit have a few drinks, maybe bash a head or two." The aasimar shook her head and walked up the stairs and down the long hallway.

* * *

The room was spacious and the bed was large, a lot bigger than the one she had at home. She opened the window and gazed over the city to the sea. The stars were all out now. She remembered the words of an old elven lullaby of a hero who fought under a star brushed sky. It was probably told wrong but Daeghun at least made an effort.

She unpacked her bag; in the hurry to leave she forgot something to sleep in. She sigh staring a small fire. She'd leave the window open a few more moment for some fresh air to come in. The armor was stripped off bit by bit. As she placed it in the drawer under the window moonlight fell on the soft blue feathers that decorated it. She searched for the rare birds for over 6 months to collect the soft feathers they leave behind; it was her greatest tracking feat. She sat on the bed in a thin undergarment and gazed at the firelight. It was the first moment she had the solitude and the silence to think of Amie's death. Of all of them she had the biggest dreams and the biggest heart. When the Mossfelds used to beat them up as kids it was Amie who'd come protect them, not her or Bevil. She poked the wood to rouse the fire.

_Raviel_

She turned in the direction and saw Amie by the window, gazing at her direction. The moonlight illuminated faint, pale features…it wasn't her friend…just her spirit. She looked down at her hands. It had happened again; she passed into the realm of the spirits. She felt tears slide down her cheeks.

_You can see me? No one else could but I wanted t say goodbye to them anyway._

"I'm so sorry I couldn't save you." Her words were strong, as if the tears weren't present.

_Don't worry about me; I'm going to see our parents. You should be jealous really._

Raviel ignored her own tears, forcing a strong voice and even a faint smile. "I hope you find them."

_Of course I will. I'll greet your mother too…and Raviel…be careful… very dark days are coming._

"Don't worry about me. I'll find them and take vengeance."

The spirit stood there for a moment before shaking her head.

_You don't have to avenge me. You know, this is the first time I ever saw you cry…that's very…human, of you. _She smiled as she said it and vanished dragging away the mists of the spirit realm. A knock came on the door and Neeshka shouted:

"Who you talking to?"

"No one, don't worry about it. Good night."

The stars shone brightly that night, indeed. Crying wouldn't help and she stopped herself quickly. Dealing with loss was something she got used to very young and she stubbornly denied herself to cry or fall in a state of helplessness. It was the little voice Daeghun imprinted on her since she was a babe. _All you have suffered, you have brought upon yourself. It makes no sense to waver over it, mend what you can and move on._

* * *

To serve The Watch was proving lucrative and less bloody than being on the smuggler side. This position, however, made Neeshka quite uncomfortable, in turn Raviel promised to square off al her debts in Neverwinter. When she said it she didn't think it would end up being such a monumentous task.

She sat at one of the tables, enjoying a well cooked breakfast. Elanee was off searching for the circle and Raviel was glad, she didn't have the heart to tell the druidess that she was a liability in combat especially after she proved her loyalty to them. She chewed on her pancake while gazing off into the distance. It was fairly bright outside, she could tell by the amount of light coming through the window. None of the others was awake yet, it had only just dawned. Footsteps gave away he was coming far before he even arrived; still, it was doubtful a human would hear them. It was a silent step but drawn out, slowed down by force. She also heard the dagger shudder in its sheet and the familiar sound of a well strung bow brushing against leather armor. So of all the people The Ranger was the only one up that early. He did not speak as he sat in his usual chair, watching her eat for a moment.

"Sal! I'll have some of that."

The man nodded disappearing into the kitchen. She eyed him for a moment but not overly, he was freshly shaved and oddly enough, sober. Like that, one would find him almost attractive.

"What, never seen a real man before?" The bitterness of his words made her instantly decide to answer nothing. He sounded just like Ward and he'd blow his head off if one ignored him. "Wordless, no wonder, an ogre like you rarely gets a man I suppose."

She burst out laughing and for a moment the man twitched, annoyed his comments didn't sit as he wanted them to. She was aware of how she looked and even though she wouldn't be voted most beautiful of all the realms, she was beautiful in the face, especially when her hair was clean and tame as it was now. Raviel sipped her milk in silence after the laughing fit had quieted down. It was than that Sal brought the man his breakfast and he fell silent.

A whole hour later Neeshka and Khelgar walked in. Qara was already up and forced to clean the tables. Since Raviel laid eyes on the girl she couldn't stand her presence. By all the Gods she just wanted her to leave so they never have to see her again. There were few things in the world that could piss her off to that extent and Qara was surpassing every other irritating creature by miles. Raviel knew it was the Daeghun upbringing in her that was outright annoyed at the arrogance and shallow displays of power but she was proud of her convictions.

"Here," Qara slammed down that day's paper "you swamp princess."

Raviel said nothing, didn't even deem her with a look even though she mostly wanted to strangle the red-head to death.

"You've already eaten? Yeeesh, when do you get up!?"She smiled at Neeshka's shock, the woman was barely awake even than and it was well after 8 in the morning.

"Good morning, what a night that was e? Duncan I have to tell you your tables are the best battering rams in the business." Khelgar stretched out his short arms as far as he could.

"I bet they are, that's why you owe me two new ones, do you hear me dwarf and stop getting your own drinks this is not a self service."

"Calm down, you know I'm good for it."

She didn't look but she could imagine the shade of red Duncan's head was getting. She felt a little bad at taking advantage of him.

"How much do we owe you Duncan?" She asked calmly.

"You owe me nothing lass; even the demon girl has been less of a hassle."

"Hey! Oh wait…that was a god thing."

"I'll deal with the dwarf." He waved a fist through the air and Neeshka snickered.

"If you don't pass out from liquor before noon." Qara landed almost sweetly

"I should put a strap on that mouth of yours." It wasn't clear is Duncan was still being humorous or rather serious.

"Try and I'll torch this piss hole, with all the ale it should burn crumble like a house of cards."

Raviel's movement was quick and no one even saw it coming. She didn't use incantations but the movement of her fingers was enough to send the girl flying into the wall. She slammed hard and got up slowly. Raviel already stood by the table, without words, eyeing her.

"A cat fight," Bishop mock-growled from the corner.

"Come on, Raviel why don't we all sit down and just-"Neeshka's voice was high strung and her gaze passed from one woman to the other. She knew Raviel and Qara had problems but she wasn't looking forward to a duel.

"No, this has gone on long enough. You think you're powerful sorceress? Come, I dare you."

"Now lass, please." Duncan was panicking; he already saw his hard earned and well established inn falling to ashes.

"Petty wizard! Like you could do-"

"I'm not a wizard and if you knew anything about the arcane you would have sensed it."

"What are ya going on about lass, we all know you can cast!" Khelgar bellowed from the counter. The entire event didn't stop him from eating.

"Y-yeah, or are you a sorceress too?" Neeshka mused with a shakily voice.

"I do not use the arcane. I have no need of it."

"My my…" Bishop smirked "The tension."

Qara was fuming, her power was bubbling and Raviel could sense it. Her eyes revealed someone barely having control over herself.

"It doesn't matter what you are. You'll learn to respect me just like those arrogant daddy's girls from the academy."

"You mean the ones studying their arts while you mop tables, yeah you really showed them."

"I don't need the academy."

"You _need _to learn your place."

The Ranger was almost tingling with excitement at the possibilities. Neeshka grabbed her dagger in case things got messy and Elanee just stood fazed in the corner, she walked in when things were already heated. In disbelief their leader would attempt to solve such a thing in violence.

"Maybe you should leave her alone I mean-" Neeshka whispered to her friend.

"Come on Qara, cast something!" It was the first time since their entire adventure began that she allowed herself to loose control over her temper…and it wasn't pretty.

"No, No, No, none of that!" Duncan tried but Qara was already chanting. She finished the chant ready to fire a fireball at Raviel but nothing escaped her hands. She tried again but no matter what she did not a single spell worked.

"What-what have you done?" The pale sorceress turned a whiter shade of pale.

"I'd like to know as well." Duncan bellowed. "She could have blown everything up."

Long slender shadow arms reached from the floor beneath and the sorceress shuddered in fear before Raviel released them back to their realm.

"Your place Qara." Raviel half growled before picking up her gear and charging outside.

"_So the swamp girl has a temper…" _Bishop half-mused to himself, gazing at a shocked Duncan and a furious sorceress.

Neeshka followed Raviel but Khelgar didn't even notice them, stuffing another piece of meat down his throat.

"Dwarf, your party just left." The innkeeper bellowed, still uncertain on what just happened.

* * *

Getting the informant out proved tougher than she thought. She tussled her destroyed armor. Raviel had only one target, The Flagon. Neeshka had gotten a pretty deep slash as well and wasn't in the mood for talking but Khelgar had had a blast and didn't understand the frustration of the two women. She felt ashamed at her display with Qara but it didn't matter now. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow was a new day. Raviel noticed the looks people would give them as they passed, bloody and tattered; daggers and axes hanging from every hip. She did not belong in the city, among fine gowns and soft spoken words. She could charm them, bedazzle them that a country girl could use her head but she was already sick of the intrigue, of the mistrust.

"Hey, boss, if you're not a wizard, what are you?" Neeshka's phrasing of boss was more of a jest but she meant the question seriously.

"I'm a Shaman."

She laughed "Seriously, like dancing in the rain and stuff like that. Man, I knew you're from the country but, come on…You're pulling my tail."

Raviel smiled "No dancing in the rain, perhaps I should try it."

"You should be more respectful tiefling…Shamans are…they're… Well let's just say I had to deal with one and would rather never face another one again."

"You faced a shaman, what was he like?" The aasimar's attention was peeked.

"Strange, he talked to himself a lot…or to the spirits maybe but he barraged down such a sea of spells on me and my party that we barely got out of there alive. He wasn't bad with that quarterstaff either… if he hasn't died of age, he might still be alive."

"I've never met another shaman…I wish I could, to learn something about it." She gazed down at her hands as they walked. The gloves were wrinkled and rough; her hands were sharp now, no spirit realm was pulling her inside.

"Don't worry, you've gotten much stronger than when we first met."

"Really?" Green eyes looked at Neeshka hopefully.

"Well maybe not a lot but somewhat certainly and these new spells are cool."

The Flagon was full and even though she'd rather go to bed she helped Sal with a few regulars. A few tankards of ale around the place and things were going a lot more smoothly.

"Anything you want?"

The Ranger's eyes passed over her body for a moment.

"If I wanted a wench I'd go to the local brothel."

She was annoyed as was, and his smug smirk wasn't helping. She wanted to throw the hot tea she was taking to another table in his face but she controlled herself. _Control, _she smirked, she could almost _hear_ Daeghun say the words.

"I doubt even they would have you. No ale than." She smiled as she walked away from him and his empty mug. The man just rose from his chair and left, slamming the inn door as he did. A sigh of relief passed her; one less.

Neeshka had gone to bed and Khelgar was sleeping on the floor beneath the barrels. Sal dozed off in the kitchen and Duncan and the aasimar were still cleaning up the place.

"I really appreciate your help, Raviel."

"It's nothing uncle, you are letting us stay for free. I'll take the trash out, you go on to bed."

He nodded smiling, his knees were hurting as hell and he really didn't have the strength to decline her offer. The back doors were smaller and she gathered the old grain bags from the kitchen without much fuss. She'd worked in the tavern back home when she needed some pocket money. She pulled the bags toward the gutter. She let the bags drop into the watery hole beneath, closing the lid to stop the smell from escaping. She just wanted to bathe and go to bed. The Shaman heard the paws upon the cobblestone path before the growl came and she turned slowly. The beautiful wolf peeked behind the corner; some remains of devoured lunch still on his jaws. She remained calm, moving to a kneeling position slowly. Once they were eye to eye she offered her neck to him. She did not want to kill it, it was probably lost. He lingered sniffing her for a moment and she felt her blood rush but her spirit remained calm and he did not bite her. The woman met many beasts in the Mere but wolves didn't live in swamps. Its cold nose tickled her skin yet soon the growl stopped and she placed a hand on the soft fur. He smelled of the woods and of moist dirt.

"You should escape; the guards here will kill you on sight." Raviel smiled petting him again.

"It's more likely he'll tear out their throat." His voice was hoarse and he appeared from the shadows where the wolf had been.

"Your companion."

"You know a lot about dealing with wild animals…not something I encounter in most mages."

"Indeed, good night Ranger."

She opened the doors and he moved behind her holding her around the waist and twirling them through the door together.

"Good night tavern wench."

The wolf followed in his stride.

Too tired to bicker with him she locked the doors and turned off the torches. Being aasimar meant the darkness didn't bother her as she moved, she saw clear through it. The Ranger's door closed taking the last shaft of light from the hallway. She was so tired she barely got to her bedroom…Tomorrow…tomorrow…

* * *

PLEASE REVIEW!


	4. Old Owl Well

Ch 4 Old Owl Well- a forgotten hero

Old Owl Well stood before her like a forgotten ruin of some country village fortified to the teeth. It was cold in those mountains and the air smelled of fine dust and freshly chopped wood. A murmur of soldiers and slamming of a forger's hammer echoed through the valley. The fires beneath the bellows flickered behind one of the tents. The dwarf stood there, emblazoned with Neverwinter's fearsome eye. Khelgar felt chipper the moment he saw him.

So they went, in a healthy stride through the perils of the canyon. Raviel did not tell them, she never saw an orc before and no Tarmas's or Daeghun's tale could prepare her for the sheer brutality of their charge. Their sharp teeth bared and heavy axes pointed only at their necks. She was glad she wasn't a melee fighter in those moments. Watching Khelgar, as short as he was charge at them without a moment hesitation and Neeshka moving as quickly as a fox taking out their eyes with her daggers made shivers run down her spine and she held their back with called lightning and flame strikes best she could. They hacked their way through the first orc cave, patching wounds with spells and medicine kits best they could. The running took its toll but they were very close. Elanee's presence wasn't missed overly, she returned to Neverwinter with Grobnar since the gnome was running a high fever when they found him.

Her eyes scanned the land, slowly, she crept around the corner.

"There were humans here and two bands of orc…I'd say it's the right direction."

"Let's push on than." Khelgar bellowed happily.

"Or we could take a break, my tail is killing me!"

She gazed at the sky for a long moment, this was not homeland and she didn't know if the signs of the sky meant the same things as back home.

"I think we should press on…a storm will be coming soon and I'd rather be in an orc cave than on these slopes when the water comes pouring down."

Khelgar nodded and Neeshka puffed her way after them.

* * *

It was a trap, their last soldiers giving a final charge. She readied her lightning storm as Khelgar protected her back. There were many of them and she was feeling weaker as blood ran from her wounds. The paladin's hammer slammed away one of the orcs running at her and she summoned the skies to shatter their fury at them. Arrows flew in her direction and one pierced her thigh. She hissed placing her hands over the wound. As she stood there, helpless and useless, protected by her friends she felt the mists of the spirit realm again_. "No, no, no, no, no_. "She whispered to herself as the mists enveloped her. She was in the spirit realm but the others were there as well…like through a haze she could see them, hear them with a distant slashback of sound. The pain seemed untraceable there and she could focus on a next flame strike. The charge of the Orcs seemed to pass through her, not harming her and even the arrows of their best archers missed their mark. The last few were cut down by Khelgar and Casavir united. Neeshka knelt wounded beside her and the first drops of rain were beginning to crash from the sky.

"Lass, what's, what are ya…uh, can ya hear me?"

"Lady are you alright?"

As the mists of the spirit realm left her body she remained smiling, blood escaping her thigh and side quickly. Neeshka was in no better state beside her.

"We need to get to higher ground." Was the only thing she managed to say before collapsing. They dragged themselves to a small camp on a raised cliff. Under the tiny tents a faint defense from the storm was given. Winds howled through the canyon and streams of rainwater ran down the path they were travelling. If they had remained there they would have been washed away.

Casavir watched the woman on the cot beside him, he had lay on hands and healed her best he could but she was without blood and he could not heal that. Her eyes were glazed over as she watched the falling rain.

"I will carry you milady."

She smiled "Thank you, but I'm sure I will manage, I like to depend on myself."

"I do not think it would be wise…if you fall-"

"Do not worry sir, thank you for your concern."

"If you insist." He blinked at the strange woman as she stretched her hand to feel the rain falling. The paleness of her skin was even more ghostly now. The tiefling and the dwarf were sleeping; the woman curled on the cot, the bearded man resting his heavy body against the rock. The paladin felt no need to rest, he had lived in the canyon long enough to have gotten used to its harshness. The woman's breathing was very calm and he watched the band with interest; an aasimar and a tiefling fighting back to back, it was something he had never seen before. He gazed at the grey mountains; at the sharpness of the rocks and their barren landscape…he spent so much time there in his self-imposed exile he forgot there was a world beyond them. His duty there was done and he had no new goal to aspire. Long ago he stopped the contemplative conversation with his God…they said everything there was to each other, now they both only listened to the world around them. This decision had to be his alone and his gaze fell to meet her haunting celestial eyes. They made him uneasy because they seemed to gaze through him, taking off all layers of his protective skin…straight into the soul. It was a gaze most mortals wouldn't be able to bear. Their conversation was without words and he nodded after a while.

"I will walk with you."

Raviel watched the man without requesting anything from him, his spirit calmed her…she had never met a paladin before but his smell lulled a safety in her. The lines of his mortal flesh seemed to slip away, revealing a simple, pure essence. The strong man did not know it, holding a stern expression and a noble stance, but his eyes spoke volumes. It were weary eyes, tired of battle but stubbornly intent of their kindness.

* * *

She sat by the fires, drinking a sweet berry juice, Neeshka and Khelgar were playing cards and since Neeshka was cheating and doing it good Khelgar was left to fume loudly at loosing hundreds of gold coins. Casavir didn't fit in and spent most of his time reading by one of the windows. The man helped them greatly and it was an honor to have a paladin with them on the journey, people at least didn't look at them as thieves any more.

"How are you Raviel, you haven't spoken for a while?" Elanee looked at her in worry, her new robes fresh and green.

"Tomorrow, we face the Gith of this city…we…could die tomorrow."

Neeshka and Khelgar fell silent as she said it.

"Don't ya worry lass, we've cut them down before, we'll do it again!" Khelgar was a driving motion behind their little band. There was nothing that got him down, except the lack of ale, no foe he wouldn't charge. He gave her courage and she was grateful for it.

"Elanee, I want you to go to Skymirror, we need to know as much as we can about our enemy, if your elders can help-"

"Of course I'll leave before dawn." The druidess answered quickly, readily. She wanted to help them…even though she didn't understand them she knew they were doing the right thing.

"Khelgar I want you to go along, in case there are enemies in your way."

"Not wise lass, only you three going against the Gith!"

"I want to use their numbers against them, I need a small and swift group, if we all go in the lack of space will only be to our disadvantage," The others were listening. Khelgar was the one to ask about frontal assault and Raviel always made sure to take good advantage of their specialties and their knowledge.

"That's not a bad plan; I remember my party was backed up once in a narrow gap between the rocks, it helped us because their numbers were useless since no more than three could reach us at any given time." Duncan shouted from behind the bar.

Raviel smiled "How about some music Grobnar?"

"Why' Why of course! What would you like to hear? Whitethisle? Or or-"

"Something cheerful"

"Ooooo, I have just the thing!"

As the gnome climbed on the table and began a happy melody, Khelgar downed a drink and Neeshka went to check the pockets of patrons. Raviel may have forced her to show some remorse and afterthought to her actions but she hadn't become a saint in any way. Casavir had vanished, retiring to his chamber. Raviel and Elanee danced to the old bard melody. The dance was rather simple but very lovely; it was something Retta taught her an Amie when they were kids. The song was used to celebrate the coming of spring after the snow would melt and Amie and she would dance it on a hill above the village. They even tried to make Bevil try too, but he wasn't really gracious enough for it. The Ranger gazed down his ale for a while, listening to their pathetic attempts at tactics. He played with the blade throwing it into the table every now and again. He watched as the women moved their limbs to the melody in unison. The lines of the aasimar's body silhouetting over her clothes. She kept her eyes closed as she danced but never stumbled or slammed into anything, which impressed him more than the dance itself.

"A few more years of practice and you'll be proper tavern wenches." Neither of the women even gazed at him as he said it and Raviel's outright ignoring him was staring to unnerve him.

* * *

"Welcome to the Inn Shandra." She smiled as she welcomed the woman inside. She collected her nerves after the blond accused _them_ of all the accidents that befell her.

"Why hello there lass, I'm Duncan- You're free to stay here. You have a bed and food." She snickered to herself when she saw her uncle's eyes sparkle.

"Thank you I guess, it's just, so much has happened. I don't know what to do."

"Do not worry, you will be safe here." The paladin's voice calmed her and Raviel was glad she had someone else dealing with the unfortunate victim. The lunch that afternoon did her good. After all the travelling and her preparing their meals it was nice to eat with someone else coking. Sure, she tried appointing someone else their designated cook for the evenings but they could neither hunt nor prepare meat, so she rather did it herself than waste a catch. Each time she'd creep over the grass in search for a couple of rabbits or the occasional geese she remembered Daeghun's lessons. The calm voice that said: "_Even your breathing, make small calculated steps, always watch where you're going". _As she pulled back the bow her fingers would brush her face and she held her breath for a moment, the words would again come dripping into her mind. "_Do not think of the target and do not think of the arrow, you are the arrow and you are the target." _When the others were not watching she'd whisper her prayer to the beasts before preparing their meat with the greatest of care, because it was a life taken to sustain their own.

The pub was pretty much filled that evening and Neeshka was helping Duncan out, more because he threatened he'd tell Khelgar that she was cheating him at cards than because she wanted to.

"Will you walk with me Casavir? The music is-"

"A bit overwhelming." He added and escorted her to the docks. It was a calm and cold night, with winter approaching.

"Why did you decide to come with us Casavir?"

"Because I find your cause noble and I wish to stand behind it."

He said it quickly and strongly which revealed he thought it through carefully. They stood watching the ships cradle in the harbor.

"I try to hide it, but this journey overwhelms me."

"Milady, it is no small feat."

"I do not wish to impose or burden you with my troubles…but the others seem to listen but not hear what I'm saying."

"Indeed, they can be somewhat shortsighted. What troubles you?"

"I was not raised to lead; I rather stand by all of you than in front of you."

"I've noticed you allow their opinions to greatly influence your decisions."

"That is because their opinions matter Casavir."

"Indeed, but you are the leader, there has to be a leader."

"I fear I am more of a hindrance than a pinnacle of leadership."

"That is not true, you master them skillfully, turn their arguments into jests, you have created a brotherhood of the most diverse band of people."

She remained silent for a while gazing at the water. He had a point, perhaps she wasn't doing such a bad job of it but she didn't feel comfortable in the role. She was raised by a loner and she was a loner…all this time, every day, every hour of every day with them drained her. She looked down to her hands… to escape perhaps…where neither the Gith nor her companions can follow?

"Let us return, my lady, it is cold and you wear but a gown."

She nodded to the paladin as with slow stride they returned to the Flagon. The tall man held the door open for her before excusing himself and going to his chambers. Even when he was with them he held himself reserved and he had become more and more of a loner. She disliked it because they needed to be united if they had any chance of survival, but she also understood his reservation…he could relate to none of them. Her eyes wondered towards the only familiar scent, The Ranger. It wasn't a willful gaze, more of a passing glance, but his dark eyes were pressed upon her.

"Hey! Raviel, let's spike Khelgar's drink, come on, it'll be fun!" She looked at Neeshka a bit disappointed.

"W-what? I didn't mean to hurt him jeeesh…just make him sing or dance maybe." Raviel snickered "It would be fun to watch but I don't think it's particularly kind."

"Well, I guess you're right besides I don't want to worry with him getting back at me some way or the other."

* * *

The Paladin sat by the fireplace in his room. His armor and weapons neatly placed in the corner, out of sight but not out of mind. He breathe in the scent of the flames and the incense burning by it. The 30 year old man took off his shirt and took some of the salve he always carried with him. His torso was strong and well formed. When he was younger there was rarely a woman who didn't hold her breath as she met him... He lost some of that and he never even paid it much thought until he met the diverse band he was following at the moment. Until he understood, just what he lost. His fingers massaged the salve into old scars that decorated his chest, his arms and his back. The pain of the wounds was long since forgotten because he gladly took them to fight for what he believed in.

He was still a young man, strong, capable and determined. His relationship to his God had only improved. He saved the lives of the people at Old Owl Well and he even saved Raviel's life in the canyon… still, Casavir was miserable. He once made peace with it but it was beginning to eat away at him. He used to believe his convictions were righteous, he befell a paladinian arrogance believing a good heart made life owe him happiness… but he was robbed of it and forced to learn life owed you nothing, painfully. He lost the smile he used to carry, the warmth of who he was.

"_Sir Casavir_," he smiled at the term… was not born into nobility and the lords and ladies of Neverwinter would never let him forget it. "_Your title is sword earned…you are our banner but you don't understand what Neverwinter needs." _He remembered every detail of that day, every moment. He had been away for a full year, holding Neverwinter safe from Luskan arms. He saw suffering, death and pestilence in that time and he was only 23. The bells of Never Castle slammed loudly to greet him. Petals of roses floated to the sun warmed streets as he walked beside his commander… The day began festive yet as his love did not greet him he went to her home. The merchant's face was pale as he entered the courtyard. "_I see you yet live." _He was shaken by the words and by the man's appearance. His once rich house was empty and decrepit as if a hundred years had passed, not one. "_My daughter has left me Sir Casavir; she has joined her mother in heaven." _

He held back the tears even as he sat there. He had given his life to his cause and found a comforting numbness when charging into battle…a _hope that he would not live. _That year changed his life for the second time, he lost the only person who really knew him and was cast out by the city to which he'd given his life. Neverwinter was the reason he was not there when she needed him but Neverwinter was not there when he needed it. Among a band of misfits running into their own doom he felt belonging even though the eyes of the celestial awoke dormant spirits.


	5. Bloodhunt

Ch 5 Bloodhunt – a trail of fate

"Attack! Attack!" Duncan bellowed through The Flagon.

Her eyes opened but her head was split by pain. She rolled of the bed and found herself face to face with a slumbering wolf who had no intension of moving. The events of last night could wait; she grabbed her dagger and ran toward the door. The room was left empty and she slammed the door shut behind her. Dressed hastily she emerged into the chaos, without words she focused and helped a young woman shouting for her with an electric jolt to the Gith. Her companions were fighting on all sides as she entered the common room. It was a full out frontal assault. She cast only localized spells to spare her uncle's establishment as much as possible. Arrows flew by her head in precision catching the Gith in their necks or eyes, saving her life a couple of times. Khelgar threw them about the room and Elanee bound them with her vines. Even Qara had no choice but to fight, holding a broom instead of a quarterstaff and letting fireballs fly about the room. When the last Gith fell dead her Uncle ran into the common room.

"They've taken the girl, Shandra's missing!"

Raviel's senses heightened, she smelled dirt but it wasn't anything even remotely familiar. Her tracking skills were of little use…she didn't know the land or the Gith.

"They left to the North." Elanee mused.

"There's fresh soil on their boots and a Duskwood twig in one of their boots. Which means they're bound for Luskan."

"Luskan? That's your territory Bishop."

"It's not my problem."

His eyes met with Raviel's and his sneer spread quickly.

"I'll track them, but we have to hurry." Her voice was shaky but she meant it.

"No, Luskan is dangerous, Bishop will help you."

"What makes you think-"

The tension could be sensed in the room.

"Oh, I see, calling it due are you Duncan?"

"It's a woman's life at stake Bishop if that's what it takes than so be it."

"Fine, get ready, we leave immediately."

Not a full 30 minutes later they were already outside Neverwinter and beginning their pursuit through the woods. She told Casavir, Khelgar and Neeshka to come with them. Elanee was wounded during the battle and even though she would be of more use in the wild than Neeshka she was limping and had to be left behind until the healing took effect.

* * *

The undergrowth was thick and moving fast was hard, especially for Casavir and Khelgar in their heavy armor. The Shaman followed The Ranger almost surreally, to not let him slip away from them. Neeshka watched her friend move; it was like the rest of them weren't there. The movement she and Bishop shared was almost synchronized in full; a branch, a broken twig a pebble to jump across. Eyes focused on one another, smelling the air and blood hounding any Gith remains. The speed in which he could find hints of Gith movement made Raviel very confident in his abilities. At the given moment she focused her thoughts on the trail, it was another trait Daeghun taught her. "_When you hunt, you hunt; release everything else, think only of your prey." _Running through the forests reminded of her childhood, it was somewhat liberating, it was what she wanted.

"Raviel, Raviel!" Neeshka half shouted.

"Quiet, what do you need?"

"Stop please, it's been hours I can't go any further!" She looked at the others, Casavir was barely holding up and Khelgar looked like his face would explode any moment.

"Ranger-" Raviel called out to him fairly silently but he turned around annoyed. "We have to stop."

"Your friend might die; not that I care but, you are the _hero._" He spat it as an insult.

"Is there a stream near?"

"Two miles"

"Come on, two more miles and we break camp."

They sigh heavily but bowed to the decision, they all knew time was of the essence. The forests became taller and darker as they moved on, the bugs silenced their song and even birds were rarely seen. Her eyes noticed it almost in an instant. The tiny blue feather tied to a barren branch. The Ranger had not seen and she ran beside him; barred him movement with a hand. As she did an arrow pierced the ground where he would have been. "We're even now Ranger, for the Flagon." She whispered before turning to the forest.

"_Good eyes, for the time being they have saved you." _The elf did not show himself and spoke on an old elven dialect; Neeshka gulped and Khelgar pant heavily.

"They could be anywhere," Bishop whispered. "Wild elves…and what's worse we can't understand them."

"Where's the damn tree worshipper when you need her?!" Neeshka and Khelgar whispered almost in unison.

The Shaman placed a hand on the amulet she wore for good luck, a silver piece containing the powder that saved her life once; she had not spoken elven in years, Daeghun so rarely allowed it.

"_We hunt-"_Raviel voiced it briskly aware Daeghun once told her that to wild elves it is sacred and they would rarely impose upon another during their pursuit. Bishop stared at her for a moment.

"You know elvish?" Neeshka scratched her head.

"_You hold a strange understanding of our customs."_

"_Allow us passage so we may continue in our pursuit."_

"_What do you pursue hunter?"_

"_The strangers who have trampled through your lands."_

"_The foul smelling beasts. Still, to us, you are strangers as well."_

"_Let them pass, they shall stay by the water." _She knew the voice and breathed out calmly.

"Come on, slowly" They moved through the trees, never seeing a single elf. They reached a clearing by the water.

"We should move before they change their mind."

"We have been allowed to rest by the water." She challenged Bishop's gaze.

"I'm not letting you risk my life-."

"I'll go hunt tonight, you stay here."

"And leave you, the elven speaking one to wander through the forest alone? I don't think so, I'm coming along." The Ranger half spat tapping a hand against his dagger.

"Perhaps you should do as our leader tells you Bishop." Casavir pointed as he knelt by the water.

"Perhaps you should hold your tongue in check before I remove it." Bishop had a short fuse for paladins…Casavir in particular.

"Why-"

"You-"

"I-"

"Stop, let's just make camp." The aasimar silenced the mass quarrel that was beginning. She saw she pushed Neeshka to her limits and the young tiefling was seriously tired.

Setting up a small fire and unfurling bedrolls wasn't so much of an issue. Casavir ignored the man best he could but the ranger had an opinion about everything. Casavir gazed at their leader and she only smiled in apology, he knew it was not her fault but he resented her the kindness toward such a man. Part of him knew it was wrong, but that's how he felt, he hoped after rescuing the noble Shandra he'd never have to see the man again. They filled their flasks and Neeshka lay watching the stars.

"I was _soooo_ tired. I thought we'd never stop."

"Ay, it was a tough day's running."

Raviel was rising with Daeghun's old bow over her shoulder; she used it only for hunting, relying on her dagger in battle.

"My lady," Casavir whispered to her on the side "Is it wise to be alone with him?"

"Don't worry Casavir, while we're here, we're never alone."

"I doubt the elves would protect you."

"Dear Paladin, I am more akin to these elves than anyone here."

"Milady, perhaps you know of them but you cannot trust them so blindly."

"I thank you for your concern," She placed a hand on his forearm to calm him. He nodded, unhappy but forced to comply with her decision. They walked to the tall trees without hurry, followed by the gazes of their tired companions.

"I see you've sunk your hooks in the paladin."

"It is nothing like that."

The ranger only snorted continuing slowly through the undergrowth. After a while of uncomfortable silence he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him.

"Where did you learn their language? Even elves barely understand them."

"I don't see how it's any of your business."

He frowned and looked back; the fire of the camp was barely visible. The woman's voice made it clear she would not elaborate on his question and he paused a moment watching her features in the dim light of the moon. Her hand motioned him to follow, a few deer grazing at the valley in front.

"We don't have the time to work with such a large creature." She stopped, seeing the wisdom in his words but he wasn't prepared to focus on hunting fully, not yet.

"I trust you slept well." He snickered.

"Nothing happened but temporary insanity on my part. Forget it."

"Really?" He mused into her ear while holding her by the waist "You seemed happy enough last night."

His smell was leathery, mixed with herbs, soil and musk. In an animal way she found him very appealing. The forest part of her that grew up wildly in the marshes would be perfectly content to roll around the soil joined with him, completely without restraint or ties; but the human part, the wiser one, now not intoxicated stopped any similar impulse from letting itself be known. He moved away and she crouched, wiping him and his touches from focus, her bow at ready. They split up, creeping through the woods in search of dinner.

It wasn't long until they returned with five smaller rabbits. Bishop watched a bit surprised her skinning technique and noticed it was much faster than his own. He gave it no heed as they prepared the rabbits and with some spice roasted them over the fire. They pulled out pieces of bread from their packs and began a hefty dinner.

"You're the best cook in the world Raviel, only the stew you made the other day could rival this!" Neeshka's innocent happiness made her smile contently.

"Indeed, if we had meals like this when I served under Nasher we would have been unstoppable."

Khelgar just grunted and that was more than enough said.

"It was edible your leadership." He spat, silently, annoyed at the amount of compliments she was getting. "_They would starve without her."_ He mused, aware that without her bow they'd only have the dried hunks of meat and fruit to eat on their travels.

"We should rest, we leave early."

"Who has the first watch?"

"It isn't necessary, just sleep."

"I'm as beat as I can be, I'll gladly accept." Neeshka wrapped the blanket around herself and lie on the floor.

"Perhaps you trust your elven friends too much, swampling." He sneered, pissed off at her lack of judgment. It was known fact wild elves hated everyone but their own kind and even those could not rely on their benevolence. Raviel told them to just sleep…as if it were The Flagon; he snorted to himself.

"It is without honor to attack during the night, besides no one else will pass their wards."

"Well they might be without honor." The tiefling stated playing with her tail.

"Just, trust me ok, when have I ever let you down?"

"You are not the one we do not trust Raviel." Casavir added politely. "I will take watch if it is alright with you."

"I would not endanger you Casavir, take my word."

Khelgar's deep snore made the point stick and they crawled in their cots for the night. They were deep asleep, snoring their days away gnawing at Bishop's nerves. The owls hooted in the distance and he gave it little heed. Bishop wondered why she was so intent to make sure they were all sleeping; unlike the rest of the fools he didn't trust her so blindly. His focus shifted as Raviel rose from her bed. He watched her but did not follow as she approached the nearby rim of the forest. A cloaked figure stood there and they were exchanging words.

She stood illuminated by the moon, emerald eyes gazing into the eyes of the tall elf.

"_How will I ever repay you? Thank you."_

"_Worry not young one, you've grown into a beautiful woman." _He paused, "_I watched you hunt; our way is deep inside you."_ She blushed, gazing at the beautiful man in front. She did not know, he never told her, but the powder she carried, that saved her was the magical extract of his eternity. He wanted Daeghun to allow them meet but the old elf was wiser than that and even the few times they did, bound ties between them too strong.

"_Belavel, have you been to my father?"_

"_He is well, worry not." _His hand brushed her hair and she allowed him to embrace her. The sweetness of his smell was haunting; she had never forgotten the smell. The softness of his cloak and the sharp silver chord of his bow passed under her fingertips. Even now, her childish infatuation with him caused her heart to beat faster.

"_I believe, this will be the last time we meet."_

She nodded as they parted, pain etched itself deeper inside her as she felt another piece of her memories fall away from her. No more words shared, he returned into the shadows and she walked to the fire, for a moment they both turned and motioned the elven greeting for a farewell. She learned long before, when a wild elf says something, nothing can change it and it is how it will be.

She sat by the fire and roused it, starring at the small passing stream. Bishop sat up and gazed at her with sharp eyes.

"Fornicating with elves…my, my, _lady_ doesn't fit you at all. Is there _anyone_ you wouldn't take between your thighs?"

"Yes, you, and furthermore I am no lady, nor did I ever tell anyone to call me so."

"Oh, but I've felt your thighs _milady._ So what's wild elf like? Does he bite when you're with him?" Bishop's interest was peeked, even if he was a little jealous, an elf was tough to match.

She laughed" You have such a narrow mind."

"And you're a naïve, little swamp whore."

"What does that make you for wanting me?"

"Wanting you, hah, dream on you little wench." It hurt more than she dared admit. "You practically begged me to take you last night."

"Liar"

"Am I?" He smiled as he said it but she couldn't remember, had no idea how she ended up in his room, still she was pretty sure her virginity was still intact which led her to believe nothing but sleep happened.

Bishop was lying. Once everyone was asleep he remembered watching her walk slowly to her room from his door. The gown she wore that night was thin and inviting. He stopped her in the hallway wrapping his arms around her body from behind. Dressed in long cotton pants but not much else, as she moved the thin fabrics proved little hindrance between their flesh and he nibbled on her ear gently. Her struggle stopped and she allowed his advances ending up him pushing her to the wall in the hallway. He could remember the silk softness of her thighs, the smell of her skin, the softness of her hair and the savageness of her kisses. By the time they crawled onto the bed they both passed out and he was only now coming to the realization she didn't remember a thing. It hurt somewhat but allowed such a broad range of possibilities that he almost shivered with satisfaction.

"Yes you are."

"You have no idea what happened, do you?"

She couldn't hide the fact he was right and just lay in her cot, ignoring him completely. He snickered creeping over. He whispered in her ear as she lay silently "Why don't I show you?"

The elbow slammed right above his eye and he stood abruptly, cursing all gods under his breath. His hand was already at the dagger when an arrow landed in front his leg, stopping any idea of even coming near her. She snickered before falling asleep.

"There _will_ come a time when your lover won't be there to save you."

_Lover_ she mused, he had no idea of how wrong he was. Even though she was almost surreally attracted to the man, she knew that an elf and an aasimar or human or any short living creature could never bond…it would destroy both of them. Still, it was funny to watch The Ranger get so riled up over it.

* * *

Ember; barren, desolate and old. The smell of fear, moist hay and dead wind lingered around her. The ranger stood at the forefront.

"Something's wrong."

"No people and no livestock."

"Good eyes… His gaze passed her over but she merely watched the calm of the grass and the silence within the houses. Casavir gazed calmly from one to the other. He feared, he knew and he accepted that in the wild Raviel and Bishop were one of a kind but he hoped she would feel their difference among human kind. He believed the judgment of their leader, he saw by it she was a decent woman and gazed at Khelgar and Neeshka who thoughtlessly waited for further instructions, blindly loyal to Raviel. Bishop whispered crouching.

"Let's proceed slowly-"

"No, let me go ahead…I have a surprise for them."

"Milady is that wise?" Casavir stepped forward.

"Yeah, you can't go alone! You'll get hurt." Neeshka grabbed her arm.

"No fair, not giving us the satisfaction of slamming their heads in." Khelgar slammed his fist into his palm.

She smiled listening to their words. "I'm honored you all worry and want to fight beside me but don't come close until _after_ I cast the spell."

Indeed, Casavir though…outside the wild they were completely different people...

Raviel's step was silent and she could hear their breathing forms behind corners of the buildings. There was a lot of them. She stopped just before the line where they could see her. Closing her eyes she focused, on the smells of the village, on the sound of the newborn wind and their feet upon the grass. When she had the spirits attention she stepped forward and as the Gith thoughtlessly charged towards their Kalak-cha she dispersed in the spirit realm. Her paled form remained for the others to gaze at her. The mists of the spirit realm crept over the grass and the whisper of countless voices came carried by the wind. Neeshka shivered as the voices passed them slamming a storm of spells upon the Gith. Even the second wave running to save their brothers was swallowed by the whipping winds, the flaming land and the thunderstorm from up above. Once they were dead the whispers went away and the mists rolled beneath the ground once more. Through a shimmering wall Raviel gazed at them smiling.

"I finally did it. I learned how to be a Shaman."

"Yeah and you creeped the hell out of me." Neeshka said shuddering.

"Bah, that was no fun, no fun at all!" Khelgar said pouting and walking past her.

Bishop and Casavir gazed at her for a moment, at awe at the destruction and with completely different views on what just transpired. As they turned to leave one of the doors creaked open.

"Excuse me…are…are you hunting a woman, Shandra Jherro?"

Raviel smiled and took a moment to speak with her but Bishop added his two cense by calling them all cowardly dogs. Raviel didn't stop him nor apologize in his name simply thanked the woman and left.

"Why did you allow him to speak that way?" Casavir had barely ended his discussion with Bishop without violence.

"Because I cannot speak for him and, Casavir, because he was right."

Bishop was satisfyingly surprised by her words and listened intently to what else she would say.

"How can you say such a thing?"

"When the Gith came to my home, when they came to West Harbor," She paused for a moment silently, "They came in three times greater number and we all fought, we fought to protect our families, our friends, our homes."

"But this is not West Harbor, the people here are not used to the dangers of the world."

"That doesn't give them the right to force others to fight their battles or to ignorantly cover in their houses."

Bishop was so content he almost ripped at the seams as he watched the paladin in shock eye the celestial woman. Those eyes unnerved him, just like they now pierced through Casavir's defenses. "Not everyone is brave my lady."

She shook her head smiling "True and that is why they surrendered us to them…you see Casavir they were fully prepared to offer our blood, our lives for their own. Do you still think them innocent enough to defend them?"

"It was not a conscious decision, they just panicked and hid."

"Perhaps it is my upbringing Casavir, but I was raised to be proud and competent. My father," She paused for a moment, remembering all the odd lessons he taught her. "he made a wolf out of me and I loved to run freely. These people are not even dogs…they do not hold even that loyalty."

Casavir closed his eyes "I do not know what kind of man your father was, when it comes to it, you make the right decision but some of your words…they are simply not _human."_

She laughed at him, placing her warm hands on his cold cheeks. "I'll tell you a secret," She whispered, "I am not human."

* * *

The halls of the ruins were decrepit. She walked slowly through the Gith infested halls. Her friends fought bravely beside her. Khelgar's roar echoed down the hallways and Bishop's arrows held her back safely. Casavir was their front, slamming against their enemies without mercy and with inhuman power.

The demon by the door had interesting eyes and she listened to what Neeshka told her, she trusted the tiefling's intuition but her execution needed a little work. Casavir was against bargaining with a devil but the spirits around that one were calm and very, very ancient. She unbound him from his prison, left him to his planes of fire.

"My lady, before we enter and face this threat, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course Casavir, ask."

"You have asked all of us, why we follow you…but why do you pursue this?"

She gazed in the eyes of her companions who awaited the answer just as intently.

"Well, we're waiting." Bishop sneered.

"These shards took my best friend from me, bring pain to my father, have destroyed my home a second time and I…want to make sure they never enter my life again."

"I apologize if my question has caused you pain…I was only wondering."

"Let's go-"

Once they entered the sanctuary, Zeeaire gazed at her and she gazed at the astral priestess.

"Kalak-cha!" Echoed the halls again. Thief of the Githyanki silver sword. Her eyes challenged the woman as she tore the shards from her…than, the pain came. Her blood revolted, her heart slamming a beat she could hear as she was lifted from the ground. She felt as if the ribs were cracking and the skin stretched on the spiked bones…she felt as the room became dizzier that she was ripping the heart from within her. She heard her friends shouting and only once Zeeaire released her in anguish, the battle began.

The dying woman screamed of a King, a King of Shadows and Raviel remained standing, fazed by the events that transpired, afraid what her implications in this may bring. She wanted to run…she wanted to run where neither the Gith nor the living may follow.

"Just a moment, I'm still picking the lock!" Neeshka huffed as Shandra begged her to hurry. Panicked the blond woman jumped from her cage, flinging accusations. Shouting, annoyed that they brought this fate to her, that she wanted to return to her farm…watching her with frightened eyes, watching into Raviel.

"Please Shandra, all will be explained, we must first return you to safety."

"I I understand but… my farm, I've lost everything." She found safety only in the paladin's blue eyes, she trusted him because his spirit told her he'd die for anyone who needed it and Raviel was angered by it, by his offering of himself…by his zeal. She wanted to show him freedom but, deep inside was fully aware that Casavir threw away the keys to his prison long ago.

"Aren't you going to say anything your leadership?" Bishop half whispered to her but Raviel did not hear him, clutching silver shards on the palms of her hands.

"Well now that you _owe _us we might come to some sort of an arrangement."

"She does not owe you anything Bishop."

"Oh really, how would you like it if I left you here than, covering alone in the wilderness."

"But I have no gold…"

"That doesn't matter, my cot get's a little cold at night, I'm thinking you can fix that."

"Bishop, silence your tongue immediately."

"Bishop, that's enough."

"I see you've broken out of your state."

"You will come with us to Neverwinter, you will receive food and board and in return show us Ammon Jherro's haven."

"But I already told that green skinned thing I don't know where it is."

"We will discuss it in the city."

* * *

I have to thank Vshard for a great review of this chapter helped me improve A LOT of details :)


	6. Poison From The Past

Ch 6 Neverwinter- poison from the past

Warmth and the safety of the Flagon, but … she did not speak with Duncan. She starred into the fire, angry. Neeshka stood near the fireplace as well; tired and somewhat worried. She and Raviel had gotten along great, the woman danced on the line of the law forcing her to be a good person but allowing them some forbidden treasures. Neeshka felt at home among them, even began getting along with Khelgar just fine. In fact she was getting quite use to the dwarf and even on occasion to the tree worshipper. A few days ago the two of them wondered the Neverwinter Arms and Armorers fair wide eyed. It was a sunny day and the smell of iron and furnaces filled the streets of the docks. Neeshka was eyeing a stable, light dagger while Khelgar drooled over some armor and axes even though his decision to become a monk had not wavered.

"You know you won't be able to use those if you become a monk?"

"Ay but I won't need them. Imagine how good it'll be beating down armored beasts with only my bare knuckles.

"Somehow it doesn't sound too appealing."

"To feel the skin and the bone with every punch, that's fighting!"

"It sounds like you've got a screw loose in that thick skull of yours."

"Mother look, a demon!" They both turned and to Neeshka's surprise the kid was pointing dead at her.

"My God! Guards, guards! There's a demon within the walls of Neverwinter!"

Neeshka shivered in panic as a large group of bystanders formed around them to watch what was happening. The Greycloak lieutenant appeared quickly in his shiny new armor and weapons. "_We_ _got him that shiny new sword," _Neeshka mused, and "_now I get to suffer because of it_!"

"What seams to be the problem here?"

"Are you blind! Look at the hellspawn there, creatures like that endanger our children." With that the woman pulled her son closer. A loud cheer could be heard from the folk around them. Neeshka's heart was pounding, with the stand behind and the people around her she had nowhere to run. She had already gotten used to being persecuted for what she was and it no longer phased her. She gazed over their faces and understood the mob had a target, if nothing more than to fill their day.

"I haven't done anything!"

"-Yet! Your kind only has evil at heart!" An older man shouted from the rabble,

"Aye, my brother was killed by one of these mix breeds! They should all be hanged!" Another added in fury.

"Poor woman who had to bear such a deformation!" The young woman who shouted it clasped her hands in horror.

The Greycloak lieutenant saw the situation was getting out of control quickly and he didn't want a riot on his hands.

"This one's a murderer as well, look at the daggers on her belt. She must be an assassin!"

The soldier's eyes calculated the risk and found it easier to deal with one tiefling than implement wisdom to the dozens of people gathered around them. Besides, _a tiefling, _usually does bring bad luck.

The crowd cheered and Neeshka began taking a step back. The dwarf listened to the accusations dragged from Neeshka's side by people in the crowd. He knew people could be tough but he didn't know that's what the girl went through almost each day of her life. He pushed the men and women aside stepping in front of her.

"Ye should all be ashamed of yerselves! Attacking a woman without any real reason! So she was seeded by a demon, it was not her choice to make. Half of yer's bastards and wenches but are quick to point a finger!"

The crowd shouted in animosity and Neeshka said nothing, surprised the dwarf would even bother to defend her.

"Now, sir, we have no quarrel with you-" The Greycloak added but Khelgar cut him off.

"You shut your mouth, it was the tiefling and our companions who gave you these new weapons and cleared Moire and her thugs from the docks! We've done more good for this town than any of ya! If you so much as make a step to harm her you'll be feeling the steel of me axe. Do you understand me boy?"

"If you work for the City Watch…" The soldier started confused and in over his head.

"Aye we do, or do ya think because she has a pair of horns and a tail an I'm short we aren't good enough for your band of would be heroes?" He spat it with a lot of anger, his head glowing red from the blood that shot to his cheeks. He had to make up what he lacked in stature by loudness.

"Khelgar's right, we never caused any problems, we were just minding our own business when this woman started pointing fingers." Neeshka's voice was panicked and shaky.

The Greycloak eyed them for a moment, he heard of the strange new recruits in the City Watch and the tiefling and the dwarf looked pretty tough. He didn't really care if they were criminals or not he just wanted to get out of the entire thing without bloodshed.

"As members of the City Watch I ask for your forgiveness, with the fair we have had a large crime wave and people are on edge. Come on, clear it out, there's no show here!"

As the soldiers pushed them away, the street became as booming and intense as ever.

"Thanks Khelgar, I didn't think you'd do that for me."

"No need to thank me goat girl, if there's anyone who ca pull yer tail it's me an besides you saved my skin in battle plenty of times for me to owe you."

"Yeah but, I thought you'd be glad if I was, ya know, decapitated, hung, speared, impaled, staked, burned…"

The dwarf laughed "I may not approve of your actions but as far as it goes we're friends and no one hurts my friends. Besides, I didn't know how much of this nonsense you go through daily and how you even put up with the thick-skulled, stubborn and prejudit…prejudi… ya know assholes."

She laughed " You mean like you? Anyway, if you disapprove of my methods I'm sure you won't be wanting this axe?"

"Now where'd ya get that?"

"I swiped it from the table when the guard started clearing the people. I didn't have time for the dagger but I thought you should get some reward for helping me." She lied, the dagger was safely nestled on her bosom beneath her cloak but Khelgar didn't have to know _everything._

"Well, since you put it that way, I'd be glad to accept. Er…thanks."

* * *

That night when everyone had gone to bed after dinking their tales away Raviel took her things and left for Merdelain. She had to go and find him. Daeghun owed her the truth. Part of her feared facing his eyes; because there was no one, who could leave her weaponless with a gaze, but Daeghun. She left them a note, it would be enough, they could wait until she returned.

The knock on the door was getting louder and louder. "Come on, GET UP!" Neeshka was screaming at her door before finally picking the lock and coming in.

"Raviel…?" The note stood on the table, a simple dagger piercing it into the wood, so the wind from the open window would not blow it away. Neeshka gazed down at the words, the writing was strange but legible. The tiefling walked down the hallways silently.

"Well, were is she, we've been waiting all bloody morning!" Khelgar shouted from across the room and the others only watched her.

"What is it Neeshka?" Elanee's almost motherly voice pierced the silence.

"She left."Neeshka whispered.

"Whaddaya mean she left?!" Khelgar shouted.

Bishop said nothing but gazed at Casavir's confused expression.

"Are you certain, perhaps-"

"No Casavir, she left a note, a stupid cryptic, confusing-"

"Let me see that-" Duncan took it from her hand before she could protest.

"Oh my…"

"Well, what does it say?"

_You wouldn't understand, so I won't waste my time explaining. I must hunt now, the most important prey there is. I must hunt down myself. I will return when this beast is beholden to me._

_Do not follow in my steps; this journey is not yours to take. I forbid you this arrogance._

_The wolf will return when it has become a dragon. _

"That really doesn't make any sense at all."

"I dare not ask but, your leader is a little strange isn't she?"

"Hey!" Neeshka shouted at the blond "You shouldn't dare ask."

Shandra fell silent a bit intimidated by the woman with horns.

"What do we do now? Wait?" Khelgar gazed at the others, not yet even touching his morning mead.

"But where would she have gone?" Elanee voiced the thoughts of the others.

Duncan gazed the paper for a while "There is an old Illefarn legend… about the wolf and the dragon but… I don't see how it could relate. Did something happen on your last mission?"

"Hell yeah," The tiefling burst in sarcastic tone. "We found out Raviel has one of these shard thingies _inside_ her. I don't dare imagine how it got _there."_

"I understand." Duncan shook his head as if the matter was closed.

"Than tell us, should we worry?" Casavir gazed straight at the small innkeeper before him.

"It's not really my place to say. You should wait, I'm sure she'll explain if she has the need to when she returns."

"I don't fancy waiting, how about you tell us what you know _now." _The ranger growled from the corner, no one had even noticed he was there.

Duncan sigh, thinking about this for a long moment before a ruffled looking Nevall opened the doors.

"Is Raviel Farlong present?"

"No sir, how may we be of service?" Duncan spoke for everyone present.

"The matter is of utmost importance, I must speak with the Lady herself."

"She isn't here," Shandra informed him a bit shaky at his gentle gaze.

"That is most unfortunate and will only complicate matters further."

"Sir Nevall, what is this about?" Casavir's position suddenly gave them some standing with Neverwinter.

"The Lady Farlong has been accused by the Luskan ambassador for the slaughtering of the village Ember. "

"What?"

"No."

"That's not true."

By the time Nevall said it, Bishop was already out the door. She may not want to be followed but he didn't really care. In the moment he tells her the news he wants to be there. He wanted to see the bright green eyes tear at him then…

* * *

He tracked many capable men and even more forLorne lovers that ran from their old husbands, but those were just humans. Once upon the Highroad he understood just who he was hunting. She visited not a single tavern, boarded no ships and left no mark upon the earth itself as she walked. The realization shattered him, to not leave mark upon the world as you pass. For someone who had meddled into every problem, who became _everyone's hero_ it wasn't something he'd expect. She stopped for nothing, not once and he only knew she was headed to The Mere of Dead Men.

The cobblestone paths became dirt and from dirt they were not at all. The Mere swallowed any trace of a road within its water. As he passed The Fort the bleak, dark swamps unrolled before him. He had never ventured that far south; he knew the North and made his living there. Within the wetlands he made slow progress, each step could have been his last and he found more dead men floating in its waters than he'd seen in any graveyard. It seemed that how the waters rose, the dead rose with them. Sunlight barely pierced the trees once he was deeper inside and with winter approaching the sun's light was even more cherished when it helped upon his path. It seemed a simple task to find West Harbor within all the muck and reek, by all the pools of bubbling water and living mud… an entire village and he had no idea which way to go.

After encountering some lizardlings he rested by one of the trees, wrapping his wounds best he could. Bishop grew up in a small town; he spent his entire childhood in the wild, saving himself from an abusive father and a people whose pure seed was evil. Standing there, ankle high in mud smelling of deceased flesh and stale waters he wondered how anyone could ever live there. He couldn't picture the girl pushing through these swamps, couldn't see her run these lands without fear. He understood than, that _none_ of them actually knew her. They did not know where she was from, they did not know why she held the shards to begin with, they did not know where she was headed and _still_… they followed her through it without question. He pressed on, finding the last traces of the road with some difficulty and running until a few buildings appeared in the distance. _West Harbor;_ the home of heroes. The sight of it made him laugh, he thought a settlement in this God forsaken place would be massive, intimidating as its people… instead all he found was a handful of peasants who didn't even notice him in the Mere around them. He saw a flair of her hair by one of the houses and he followed it, over the small stream and to a sturdy, moldy old house. He wanted to peek through the window when three arrows pierced the wood by his head in a perfect line…the archer could have killed him, if he wanted. Even as he turned, he saw no one but heard only the crickets in the distance. As he scanned the Mere for his attacker a thin blade pressed at his neck and hair tickled his cheek. Her smell overcame him and he calmed.

"Leave Bishop- I told you not to follow."

"What will you do? _Kill_ me? Not very _heroic_ of you."

"I don't have to kill you Ranger, I'll just leave you here and let Merdelain do it for me."

He snorted, slightly on edge by her words.

"Who's the archer?"

"The Best Ranger in Faerun." She whispered aware it would piss him off, waiting only for Daeghun to enter the house before she would do the same. The edge of her blade cut into his skin as she sliced. His heart stopped yet the wound was not deadly. By the time he turned the doors of her house slammed shut. Angry and with wounded pride, Bishop remained fist slammed on the door. Whenever she decided to leave, he would be there, waiting.

She paced in front of the fireplace angrily; Daeghun sat at the table, skinning rabbits and other beasts as he did each night.

"You are troubled." His voice was calm and she gazed at him for a long moment, enough for him to drop what he was doing and look at her.

"This scar, how did I get it?"

Daeghun sigh and let the knife rest on the table, washing his hands in a basin of cold well water.

"It was when your mother died."

She said nothing, instead kneeled on the floor by the fire as she would when she was a child. Daeghun sat in the old chair beside her. They did not watch each other as they spoke but rather gazed into the flames.

"You were born during a war. West Harbor was caught in it as were many villages of the Mere and we had to leave quickly. When the attackers came I was protecting the retreating humans. I could not find your mother…or my wife. I hoped since I was guarding the pass they were behind me. I waited until I was sure they would not come… but they…they returned through the Mere, to get you."

The wood in the fireplace was cracking and besides their breathing, was the only sound.

"When they got to you and ran after us…no one was left to hold the way for them. I do not know what happened. When I returned to the village, that very same evening…the battle was over. West Harbor was filled with the dead. The place I found you still marks on the ground…"

"Did they-"

"They were dead, holding each other tightly…protecting you. The shard must have passed through your mother and into you. I didn't think you'd survive but managed to heal you."

She remained gazing at the flames…

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"Because I thought it for the best to not burden you by it."

Daeghun would rather she died and his wife remained alive… she knew this, because she was just like him, he didn't have to say a thing. In that moment another part of her memories…of her personality shattered, she decided with newborn determination to hunt down this King Of Shadows. She did not express sorrow rather took Arvorenid's amulet and placed it around Daeghun's neck. Her elven was soft and somewhat shaky.

"_Thank you". _…for not leaving me and returning to your people. _"I'm going hunting." _…for the closure of our wounds.

"_Safety to you, my daughter. "_…I will be waiting for your return.

Bishop wanted to get in that house. _Needed_ to see _the best_ ranger in Faerun. Instead he met Raviel's gaze as she walked out the door. Her eyes didn't strip him of his defenses, they slashed him to pieces.

"She _whips me_ with her eyes." The Ranger half snickered.

"Why are you here?"

"Because _hero…_you've been accused of murder and a whole village no less."

She gazed at him in disbelief. "You need to get to Neverwinter or you'll be handed to the Luskans."

"And you came to save me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just came to bring you back, least your band of misfits falls apart."

"We should hurry then." She ran for the Mere and he grabbed his gear to follow. Among the thick trees and watery landscape she was in her territory. Bishop followed precisely where she stepped. The evening mist and even the cold didn't bother her at all. The white wolf armor she wore was impressive and he had never seen anything like it. Her eyes gazed through the mists, their shimmering light green almost haunting. Bishop followed her stride and they cut through the Mere quickly. Compared to his trouble to enter he felt almost ashamed as to how quickly she led them out.

"What happens if I am given to Luskan?"

She asked the question without looking at him, without stopping.

"You die, and I don't mean noose and gallows…Luskans are far more creative than that."

"You're Luskan, why don't you explain just how creative they are?"

His heart skipped a beat and he unsheathed his dagger behind her. Duncan must have spoken…there is no other way she could know. It was a waste of a perfectly good woman but he couldn't let her live.

That evening just outside the fort they made camp. She unfurled the fur and lay upon it. Her limbs covered with light leather armor. She gave him first watch as he requested. The crickets were silent, winter had come and only the occasional owl or bat passed by them. The fire was small and barely cast enough light for the two of them. After a few hours he crawled closer to her. Fingers slid down her neck, the softness of her skin appealing…he could almost see the blood in her veins beneath. The dagger lingered above it for a moment.

"Why don' you push down, Bishop?"

Her eyes gazed at him; with only inches apart they rooted him in place. He became overly aware of the form of her body, of its heat against the cold air. His lips locked on hers tightly, giving her no choice but to comply. Heat, loneliness and insanity beckoned them both forward. They shared this understanding, to give into their primal needs like wolves; scratching, biting, trapping each other with force too great, struggling for dominance in the act itself. He tasted every part of her skin, bit down on her neck, her breasts, her thighs… savored the taste that made her. The Ranger marked her and she bound him between her thighs. It was a contract as much as an indulgence of passion. The woman caressed the scared skin, the whip wounded back, the branded abdomen… while revealing her own scars to him openly. What their words kept from each other skin revealed, in a caress or a sigh or to the night forLorne shudders. After he had indulged in her flesh Bishop was unwilling to move from her. He watched her eyes intently… they couldn't shatter his defenses just as he could no longer mind for hers. There was nothing romantic in the moment; it was hard, brutal and savage…just like they were. Just like the knowledge was that their souls were the same and the only difference between their rage was that his was never caged, it was never formed by someone equally free of society's restrictions. The dagger remained pierced into the frozen ground by the flames, for some later time, but most certainly not forgotten.

"If I asked you to come with me…camp out somewhere in the forest for a few years…leave Neverwinter and the zealot. What would you say?"

She remained quiet for a long moment "I'd say no."

"What?" The answer surprised him…he was expecting a different response. For a moment he saw kindred in her eyes, in her skin, in her passion; she crushed the thought and after a few seconds he was glad she did.

"If we were wolves we'd be perfect for each other…but you could never give yourself to me and I could never forget who I am." Her fingers touched the scar running between her breasts. There had to be understanding in that moment. That single movement said _I know you will not stand by me and I do not care; I am not surrendering myself to you I am only taking what you are willing to give._

"Let us at least drown in each other. I will be your poison of choice and you may drink of me to your heart's desire." The man whispered it into her ear, tickled her neck with the heat of his breath.

"What do you want in return?"

He snickered, rough, thin lips stretched to a smile over white canines. "Nothing less than I give you."

Bishop held the furs tightly around them, her goose bumped skin pressed against his. He claimed quite a number of women…but it was different. He did not claimed Raviel…they famished each other and the deed gave him no closure. It prolonged the game and the night was still long.


	7. The Trial I

Ch 7 The Trial

Nevall was a sight when he was angry; it almost made him appear human. He had been waiting for a few days now and Lord Nasher wasn't pleased, which in turn made him edgy. The companions of his intended target were gnawing at his nerves and he didn't know how long he'd hold out listening to them. The heavy doors pushed open, a distinct smell of rose essence and leather filled his nostrils and his eyes met the celestial's.

"Lady Farlong?"

"It is not a title I use, but yes that is me."

"I come from Lord Nasher, the Luskan ambassador has accused you of the slaughter of Ember."

"I had nothing to do with that. The last time we passed there we cleared the town of Githyanki, perhaps they returned."

"If it would only be that simple. The Luskans claim to have a witness that puts you on the scene."

"What? Why didn't you tell us that before?!" Shandra's panicked voice filled the room and the others also agreed.

"It was something only Lady Farlong could hear."

"Please, don't use that title. Lady Farlong is dead and has been so for the last 20 years."

Nevall paused for a moment "How should I call you than?"

"Raviel is just fine, now, what can I do against these accusations?"

Nevall sigh "Well, Lady Raviel, not much, to save you form low justice and extradition to Luskan you must first find a knight to take you as their sire."

"What are the chances of that?" The tired woman watched Nasher's second intently.

"Usually almost none but because of your service to the Watch, Nasher's close friend and knight has accepted to take you as his squire. He is waiting for you in Captain Brelaina's office…and, next time attempt to be in Neverwinter-"

"There will be no next time Sir Nevall." The celestial cut of calmly, placing her gear on the nearby table.

Tired, he just waved his hand and left. Glad to have that over with. Sand could handle the rest.

She turned to her companions, Bishop hovering in the doorway behind her.

"Did you find what you were searching for?" Neeshka's voice broke the awkward silence, giving Bishop the momentum to return to his usual table.

"Yeah, sort of."

"Lass, you should have told me-" Duncan began but she stopped his words with a gesture of the hand

"We can't focus on that now. I'm going to Brelaina's."

"I'm coming with you than, I want to hear what this so called knight has to say." Raviel nodded aware she couldn't get rid of Shandra without a quarrel and she had neither the time nor the patience to deal with the woman.

"Casavir I would like you to come along as well, if this is about knighthood I don't know who better to give some advice." The paladin nodded almost relieved she summoned him. The ranger snickered in his cup.

"What's so damn funny? Low justice in Luskan ain't I'll tell ya!" Khelgar finally burst; they had all been on edge since Bishop vanished.

"Oh, I'm not laughing at our leader's imminent demise. I'm laughing at how deep she'll bury herself in Nasher's lap to get out of it." He relaxed against the wall as he said it.

"And what do you propose Bishop?" Her voice was calm and he wasn't certain if she wanted to know or just humored him.

"I think you should kill the ambassador. Show them what you think of justice."

"That's horrible!" Shandra again played conveniently moral and Casavir was there to back her up.

"Such a thing I would expect from _you_ but thankfully not our leader."

"Bishop's way is direct and somewhat poetic but as always short sighted." His jaw dropped at her ripping apart of his idea. If one could he would have killed her with a gaze.

"Than go be Nasher's lackey, whore yourself to him, it's the only thing you're good at."

"I will not have you address Raviel that way!" The situation was getting out of hand and Raviel knew Bishop and Casavir didn't need much to be at each other's throats.

"You really went too far now." Neeshka stated overly calm, holding Khelgar's axe out of arms reach for the dwarf whose shade of face said enough. The celestial was attempting to gather her thoughts, to come up with a witty reply but he actually managed to hit a sore spot and her mind was somewhere in limbo.

"Perhaps you should not speak your wishes so openly." The druidess crossed her arms; certain Bishop would have no reply to that.

"Oh, I've _tasted_ the honey little elf." The man smiled as he took a drink of mead.

The silence was numbing. Raviel was not fazed; it was nothing she didn't expect from the ranger, yet perhaps, not as soon on their arrival. In a few moments she managed to think of a semi-wise reply, playing on arrogance rather than the truth.

"Lass, tell me you didn't-"

"It's true Bishop _tried_ to satisfy me, but as in everything, he failed miserably." She smiled courtly and looked at the shocked faces of her companions, well except for Neeshka for whom she knew would understand and who snickered devilishly.

"Is that an attempt at reclaiming your honor, ladyship, because _that_ is gone forever." His voice was a bit shaky because her sentence threw him off guard, she said it as if it was the absolute truth and it bugged him, a lot.

"_Honor, _Bishop, is nothing you can be a judge of and anyone who has a problem with _who_ I am can take it up with my dagger and my spells. Now if you excuse me, I have to go save my life."

* * *

_Vigil_.

She was actually happy to be getting some alone time. The sky was clear as well. She lay down beside the fire and gazed up. The stars shone brightly, they reminded of home…or what was left of it anyway.

Shandra was making her way to the vigil site. It was a murky night but she decided to go. She wanted to know more about the woman who saved her life. She was confused as to how someone with such cruel viewpoints could keep on helping people. She first though it just words but Raviel indeed got along better with Bishop, Neeshka and even the loud and aggressive Khelgar than with the rest of them. Her actions were chaotic but never evil, as if she didn't care about the law in the slightest but put great value in other things… _in common sense,_ as she put it.

"Well, what are you doing out here all alone, little girl. Come to pay your respects before it's too late?" Bishop's voice frightened her and she turned abruptly to spot him.

"Well…" She thought about what to answer him but found no good reply. What was she doing in the middle of nowhere anyway? …which led her to assume- "What are you doing here Bishop?"

"I'm going to my _lover_, what else?"

"After everything? You're naïve to assume-" Her face was mocking as she took a more arrogant stance.

"No, farm girl, you're naïve. Now crawl back to the city before the wolves get you." He sneered as he spoke, the fine muscle of his jaw clenching as he did so.

"I don't trust you and…and I'm not leaving her alone with you." There was a shadow of fear that passed her features but her body soon tensed with new resolve.

"Menage à trois? Tempting but no, you don't really have what gets me going-"

"Excuse me?!" The woman wasn't sure weather to be insulted or glad.

"Don't be jealous farm girl, I'm sure you'll find some frigid, holier than-a…" he paused as if enlightened "_indeed,_ I'm sure Casavir will be happy to bed you…or you him I suppose."

The woman blushed gently but nothing he could notice in the night, still she was stubbornly walking to the distant fire. Realising the woman's mind was set Bishop got tired of playing games, if need be he'd frighten her off.

"Listen wench, back to The Flagon, it's not a request."

"Raviel! There you are!" She shouted from a fair distance aware by Raviel's side Bishop was no immediate threat. The woman turned silently, three corpses visible once they came closer. Her clothes were bloodied but other than that she was happily eating a roasted rabbit.

"Oh, Gods, what happened here?"

"Luskans" Bishop hissed into the cold air.

"Fools." Raviel added to the silence.

"Are you alright?"

Raviel smiled and than as if becoming aware of the situation grimed a little. "Of course, I've…gotten used to it."

"I can see, I'd never be able to eat now, I'm queasy just by looking at them."

Raviel pointed on a bedroll for Shandra to sit.

"How will you slash an opponent than? How will you tear out his eyes? Gut him with that sword of yours? Don't think me cruel… when all this began…" Raviel laughed "I couldn't even kill a rabbit." She pointed to the meat.

"I suppose the things you've seen had to change you." Shandra fumbled with her fingers.

"In a way yes, it teaches you survival comes at a price…it showed me that even _my_ father was too lenient in his upbringing."

"Please stop, you're making me cry." Bishop emoted in mock.

"Pay him no heed. I'm interested in your family…I think it's, important, to know these things."

Raviel smiled "Well you've met Duncan and besides my foster father he's all I have."

"I lost my parents when I was young too… I suppose that's why I get so stubborn. I've learned to depend on myself."

"Or to get yourself killed." Bishop answered stripping all valuables from the bodies. The celestial wanted to change the subject, talking about kin was still a difficult subject and she doubted it would ever become easier.

"What are you even doing here; I doubt you went for a stroll together?" Raviel snickered, "Of course, I could be wrong."

"Gods no." Shandra burst and Bishop sneered taking a place opposite of Raviel.

"Look what your friends think of your taste?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean-"Shandra really didn't mean to offend and was sincere in her apology.

"It's fine, Bishop and I, use each other." She gazed at the man in almost a taunt. Shandra felt a little awkward when Bishop smiled at the woman beside her. It was a strange smile, she never saw him smile like that. It was a mixture of happiness, need and fury, like the growl of a wolf.

"I don't get tied down, especially with what I'm carrying." She tapped on her chest lightly. "Bishop is a bastard and I need that so I know he won't get tied down either."

"I don't know if that's-"

"No one _asked_ you girl." Bishop snarled at her. "_Humans_ have needs: fleshy, heated , insatiable and they have to be quenched like the thirst of a dying man. With disregard to the world, a single, perfect escape from reality… giving in to the beast… it comes natural." Shandra shivered as he spoke, something about his words made her tingle partly from fear, partly from a rising attraction, it surprised her. Still the woman turned to Raviel, who only gazed at The Ranger, shimmering fey like green eyes almost prying him to the spot. Than the aasimar looked at her and smiled and Shandra took it as a cue to speak:

"You do know Casavir, he-"

"Drools over her." Bishop stated.

"Would you let me finish!" The blond shouted but her voice broke and it sounded more like a high pitched scream.

"She has a backbone!" The man laughed relaxing back on the grass.

Shandra noticed Raviel had no intention to defend her against Bishop and it forced her to do it herself. She gazed the green eyes starring unblinkingly at the flames before giving him the remains of the meat. They freaked her out a little, _sharing_ their catch not a full 10 feet from the dead Luskans.

"I think he cares for you deeply and I don't understand why you would choose this…this …"

"Come on, speak up!" Bishop shouted.

"…this animal. He's a wolf Raviel and he'll devour you and betray you!"

The aasimar watched the fires for a moment before smiling at Shandra.

"I know he will… I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I…I don't understand you."

"One day, perhaps I'll explain."

* * *

Sand walked through the door self-contently. His eyes met with Ravel's

"I will represent you."

"Not if you charge more than a half copper-" Duncan shouted but the wizard didn't flinch.

"You'll find me well versed in these matters and besides ruining Luskan plots…gives me a sort of pleasure."

Raviel smiled "I'm glad you're with me."

Sand was a bit flattered at her words, as he usually got when people acknowledged his _rare and useful_ talents. Besides, he thought, the girl may be different from humans but she isn't a murderer and he could see the logic in her actions which was enough for him to find her kindred of sorts.

"Yeah, place your trust in a wizard, perhaps digging through books may prove somewhat useful."

"Your ignorance here will hurt us more than you know Qara."

"Oh please, the swamp princess is jus too weak to fight them. If it were _I-_"

"You'd be dead and we'd all find some peace." Neeshka chuckled.

"Indeed, I believe Raviel already pointed who the tougher of ya is and little firehair sure pulled the shorter stick in that one." Khelgar laughed waving his tankard.

"As if, she tricked me, used some spell damper… _if_ it were a fair fight-"

Sand took a mental note of the words. He knew the celestial was a spell caster of some sort from using the alchemy bench in his workshop but to conjure a spell damper…_well_ it was almost rivaling _his_ abilities.

"We have no time for your ego Qara; Sand, please, let's focus on Luskan." The celestial took a seat and motioned for the wizard to sit beside her. A pale light was falling on their table through the window, shimmering eyes met in a sort of dance of introduction. Perhaps it was because of Daeghun or Belavel but she felt an odd kindred with elves. The wood of the table was smooth and she tapped her nails against it every so often.

"We'll need evidence and witnesses." He calmly mused, thinking who of the companions was potentially suitable for the role. Neeshka was out of the question, her heritage _and_ history with the watch made it better if she didn't appear at all. Same could be said for the ranger, always drinking his wits away in Duncan's _fine_ establishment. Qara was too hot headed and he gathered they didn't get along so he happily removed her from the list. The dwarf was fiery and eager to fight, not a picture he wanted to paint. The druidess was too flakey; the people wouldn't understand a word she said. The idiot bard wasn't even a possible candidate, which left him with Shandra and Casavir. A Neverwinter paladin and an unfortunate victim, taken in by the Watch' _hero…_yes, that was an angle he could play.

"If the Luskans were in a hurry they left something behind…they're not the brightest of people." Bishop added from the corner snapping him from thought.

"We should hurry, before someone removes all the evidence." Neeshka mused playing with a new dagger.

"The tiefling has a point, we cannot be sure they won't send agents to check the perimeter." Sand noticed the woman frown on the use of _tiefling_, but what should he call her when that's what she is.

"They won't, they're not that stupid, imagine someone finding them while they're at it." The ranger waved his hands through the air as he spoke.

"Let's go, there's a lot of work and little time." Raviel spoke silently as if it were a secret instead of an order.

"What, all of us?" Elanee asked, who stood closest to her.

"Well…Grobnar and Qara stay behind."

"Is such a large party wise?" Bishop sneered from the corner.

"Perhaps you should let our leader make the decisions." The paladin _almost_ smiled as he said it

"I could use all of your expertise."

"That is true." Sand muttered "We should go to Port Llast first."

Raviel nodded. "Duncan are our horses fed?"

"Aye lass, Sal fed them in the morning."

"We have no reason to wait around then."

* * *

They weren't even given the benefit of the doubt, as soon as they entered Port Llast a group of vigilantes attacked them, despite Raviel's honeyed words. Once they charged however her mercy towards them vanished and she slew them where they stood.

"This will not help us, still, I am prone to believe we had no choice" Sand mused as they walked. Port Llast was a small town, Raviel drank in the surroundings from buildings to people. The others, except for Elanee had already been there at least once and knew the layout of the town which helped them greatly.

They met a woman named Nya, something about her made Raviel's skin crawl…somewhere in her past or her future the god of death would brush her soul. Despite this odd premonition Raviel was very eager to do what the woman requested, as a spirit shaman she felt an obligation to the souls of the dead. If nothing else their bodies should be allowed to slumber safely. She carried the powder with care.

Finding Alaine wasn't hard, making sense from her words was. The over-protective guardian wasn't helping. Everyone already found her guilty. By the time they asked everyone questions and attempted to clear their name night was already falling. They retreated to the Inn, it was a safe place and they needed to rest.

The large fire brought warmth and color to the room. The smell of cooking and alcohol floated in the air along with the distinct smell of patrons. Shandra was still distraught about her friend's testimony but even she fell silent from worry and tire. Khelgar and Neeshka made their way to the bar, Bishop remained hovering by one of the pillars and the rest of them took a seat at the tables. Night was chilling the world outside as winter was on the doorstep and a warm tavern with good mead and refreshemnts was what they needed. The aasimar smelled bark and land upon the woman by the fire. She was very beautiful, her pale blue eyes and long red hair only accentuated by her elven features. She approached the woman slowly and smiled in greeting.

"Falgor said you are a scout, I was hoping we could speak."

"If it's about work I'm –"

"No, nothing similar. I need information about Ember and perhaps any leads you may give."

"I see. I fear I won't be able to help you; since gain disappeared and Duskwood became even more dangerous I rarely strayed off course. I didn't see the attackers nor found any remains throughout the surrounding woodlands."

Raviel sigh gazing into the fire for a moment, when she looked back at Malin the woman was starring at a point over her shoulder.

"Is everything all right?"

"That man, Bishop, he travels with you?"

"Yes, you know him?"

"I…indeed. He used to scout with me…but…I learned quickly he was more dangerous than the men I followed.."

"Explain." It was a question as much as an order, her curiosity was peeked and she wanted to know what the woman would say. Judging by her frame she knew what _scouting with Bishop_ meant. The aasimar was surprised when the idea tingled a faint jealousy and she crushed it before it could develop.

"I was scouting with him once…when we came upon some Luskans…"

Raviel waited for her to continue, Malin's eyes flashing fear and sorrow.

"I never saw a man do anything similar to another, it's not only that he tortured them…it's _how_. He took out their eyes and skinned them while they were _alive_ hanging by their ankles from trees. While he wasn't looking…I killed them to put them out of their misery." She shivered as she said it, eyes glazed over. "You can't trust him…he manipulates you into believing he has some good inside. He doesn't."

The aasimar remained silent for a while. She thought she knew what Bishop was capable of but this added a new depth to her knowledge. She gazed over to the ranger who met her gaze. They both knew, from their first night together, that eventually one would kill the other. The Shaman knew it was a dangerous choice but she only then understood her companions might be pulled into their private war; it was the only thing she would regret…if they got hurt because of her.

"Thank you for telling me."

Malin nodded turning to the fires again.

The aasimar felt Casavir's eyes on her as she approached Bishop. The Paladin could not believe, the woman he would give his life for, would give herself to such a man, such an animal. He wanted, he hoped one day she would see this folly. The turmoil inside him was great yet one bound to Tyr as much as he remains blind to many earthly matters and it would take time before the God's grip and his own sorrow allowed him certain human decisions. For now he waited and watched.

Sand was hastily making notes, sitting alone by a well lit tavern table. He needed to have all the evidence prepared; a good speech ready. His cloak wrapped tightly around him, his pale hands scribbled with the black feather quickly. The writing was elegant and formal. There was little about Sand that didn't have that precise definition, sharp, elegant and formal.

The wolves gazed at each other, shimmering eyes by the fire. Threatened and invited in a pure exchanged gaze. In those moments, she would be ready to forget the world; it was drowning how his presence could envelop her. Bishop watched the woman in tension. If anyone, _she,_ understood what he was, Malin's words put him on trial and the eyes gazing at him in mid darkness were judge, jury and executioner. He wanted to kill the mix breed scout for it, but, part of him was almost glad that it might end their little game, because, it was beginning to frighten him.

"I have a question."

"Ask, but don't expect any answers." The sharp voice told her as always, the same line. It had become part of his joke with her because he always answered.

"What is the history between you and Malin?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."

"Just answer the question."

"She was a scout who couldn't find her way around the Luskan border if she wanted to and yeah she almost got me killed on several occasions. Why? Are you jealous?" He snickered. "I did quench my thirst in her as well, the difference was, she was trying to change me and I didn't like that, not at all."

"So you showed her just what you were capable of?"

He gazed at her without speaking.

"The Luskanites Bishop, she told me."

"Yes, I tortured them, drained every last drop of their bodies and left them blind and naked for the world to see." He hissed as he said it, an anger unknown even to her oozing out of his words, dripping from them like poison, as if he killed them again just by mentioning it. She flinched visibly.

"Do I scare you now, _ladyship_? Will you close your thighs to a murderer? Before you make a hasty decision try and sum up the number of men I killed for you. How many bloated corpses remain pierced by my arrows? That is _your_ blood. My devoted gift to you."

She stood silent for a moment gazing at the amber eyes. She did not _love_ Bishop, she was sure of it…but, something inside felt oddly belonging to him. She felt his and he felt hers on a strange plane, both flesh and spirit but not mind; as if some weave or magic slashed a tear between them that shouldn't have been. Slashed at him and broke him. She wouldn't try and changed him, she was aware it could not be done. Instead she smiled almost against what she was feeling.

"No, Ranger, nothing changes between us."

The sentence left him speechless; he hoped almost she would judge him. It would have made it easier to form her into an average woman in his mind, into someone disposable… but she wasn't and the realization began gnawing at him in that moment. It would not stop; the feeling would not leave. The ranger wanted her hate, her anger, her fury because than it would be easier on the both of them.

* * *

Standing in Ember again was like reliving a moment that had turned to a nightmare. She walked among the butchered and felt no sorrow for their deaths but felt pity for their spirits. She gave all the corpses peace, sprinkling wyrmsage over their foreheads.

Luckily, Sand and Bishop had been right; there was evidence left in hoards. The dust they retrieved from Duskwood, the poisoned body, the quartermaster's ledger… They were adding up and Sand was becoming hopeful. Shandra was edgy and panicked most of their visit, she barely moved form the entrance and Raviel allowed her this.

"Hey, Raviel, someone's in the well." She walked over to Neeshka and heard a familiar sound of steps in the water.

"I'll go down."

"Not alone you ain't!"

"Khelgar your armor is too sharp and too heavy for the rope it would break and we'd have one hell of a problem then."

"Fine, but someone should go with you." The dwarf grunted, not happy it was implied he was too heavy.

"How about it Elanee, up for some under earth exploration?"

The elf laughed and nodded, the two light women slid down the rope without problem. The darkness of the well rendered them blind for a moment but Raviel's celestial eyes pierced the dark far faster than Elanee.

"Do you see anything, I'm still-"

"There seams to be a stream here, lets see where it leads."

They walked through the water wearily not seeing the ground beneath the water.

"Marcus?" The druidess voiced.

"I knew you'd return."

"What are you doing here? You survived?"

"Yes, I've been waiting for you."

Raviel remembered Marcus…spirits hung snug and tight around his body…she first thought he was like her but soon found he was something else. They felt kindred, however and she made Bishop give him the dagger… She _trusted_ this child, had faith he would change things… He had a great destiny.

"We should get you some food and-"

"Don't worry I'll go to Port Llast, Falgor always has a place for kids in need."

"Are you sure? We can walk with you-"

"You've helped more than enough, here." Raviel took the blade from his hands and the boy ran deeper into the tunnel.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have just let him go." Elanee crossed her arms in worry.

"I know what you mean but if he's skilled enough he should be able to get to Port Llast." The celestial was looking at it practically, the boy survived thus far so he must have something in him on the other hand he was the only witness besides Alaine and she was afraid of loosing him.

"There are more caverns up ahead." Elanee noted after walking a few steps deeper.

"Let's inform the others and go explore, they can wait above."

The light piercing into the well was sharp, blinding for a moment.

"Hey!" Echo broke off the sides of the wall.

"Are you all right down there?" Neeshka's voice echoed through the shaft and back down to them.

"We're fine, there are more caverns down here, we'll go explore, you wait for us!"

"Is that wise milady, there's only the two of you." Casavir's voice was somewhat worried.

"Don't worry, we may be girls but we can do it." The two of them laughed and pulled a smile to the Paladin's face. The splash of water shocked them.

"Bishop!" Khelgar bellowed from above.

The Ranger only brushed off his clothes as he rose from the water beside them; his descent was almost elegant and he managed to land without breaking anything. The gaze he gave them was self-righteous. He was proud of himself for such a daring jump.

I'm fine, not that anyone cares but now you don't have to worry. The _girls_ are not alone."

* * *

She smiled to herself, meeting the large spider was one of the most interesting experiences in her life. She was frightened of tiny bugs, they creeped her out but Kistrel seemed wonderful. She allowed it to come with them and sensed the large beast follow them through the wild; an animal god with a wise spirit. Sand said such creatures existed but in Rashemen, not the Sword Coast.

Tomorrow she stands trial. _Trial_. She thought they have a solid case but they didn't know what else the Luskans had up their sleeve and she was glad everyone was taking it rather calmly. She thought of home and happier days, times when loneliness was the only problem. Bishop was drinking, eyeing everyone from his table. Casavir returned to his room for meditation. Khelgar was beneath the barrels again. Neeshka was turning The Flagon to a gambling den. Elanee was off to consult nature. Shandra was drinking sheepishly and gazing at her every once in a while. It was almost a night like any other with everyone giving in to their obsessions.

She rose silently and left for her room, no one noticed her leave. The hallway was dark and empty, a faint wind entering through opened windows. Her step was soundless as she walked through the darkness followed for a moment by Karnwyr. She locked the door behind her and gazed into the cold shadows of her room. She didn't want to be there, the feeling ran through her since the ordeal began. It ripped at her soul and drove her insane when she couldn't focus her mind on something else. She had been a prisoner of the King of Shadows since he slew the women protecting her. He ushered his way into her heart without her knowing…He sheeted his blade into her flesh; he had wronged her. He had taken a life that could have been. It was easier that way, to blame him, to hate him…for everything. To rip away at her flesh, to destroy memories, to run the planes as free as a wolf… if she had a wish, if only these ties could be broken. She gazed at her hands, the spirit realm was far, the silence was haunting, even they would leave her in such dark moments. With each day she was weighted down more; by a duty to the watch, by a duty to Neverwinter, by a duty to her companions, by a duty to the shards… She read of heroes and understood now that what was said of them was not true. Tales of paladins and wizards, of saviors of worlds and planes; it were tales of broken men, dead men who had to finish their journey and die. Once they were gone the world had no need of them; it used them as a banner and shield and left them tattered and torn in some ditch among the dead.

* * *

_Sorry for the long wait, my classes started and I got the Dragon Origins game (btw. It's great) so I have to admit I was putting off writing for some time._

_This chapter has some Casavir background for which I would love your review because I hope it isn't too hard, or too drastic. I intend to slow the plot down a bit now, less story progression more development between characters so I'm very interested on your opinions about that! :=D_

_:=) have fun reading and please review!_


	8. The Trial II

Ch 8 The Trial II

She was walking down the faint lit isles. The wood of each seat passing under her fingers as she walked. The priest of Tyr stood grim before her. Sanctity was heavy in the air. This was not a God she was used to. His gaze was heavy, overbearing and painful. She lived with Eldath, Lurue and Meliki in her heart. Raviel lived with the beasts of the forest, the glades and calm waters. She was used to praying in the white snow, in flowering glades, in burning autumn forests. The walls here trapped her; their towering beauty crushed her beneath. It was a place where self sacrifice hung in the air like some exotic perfume.

The moments before court replayed in her mind. Sand sitting with her in the tavern, smelling of parchment and sweet waters, his eyes scanning the papers he prepared, his leg tapping the floor nervously under the table.

As the trial progressed she left him speechless, her love of a persuasive response dragged Torio down by her own arrogance. Sand had almost nothing to say save for questioning witnesses. Everything was perfect, even to the verdict itself… until Torio claimed trial by combat.

She recognized the man instantly; Lorne; Bevil's older brother.

She wanted to avoid fighting him but Sand and Nasher insisted it was mandatory and that she could call a champion to fight in her stead. She gazed with fury at the _dancer_ of Luskan, her colorful gowns and sly smile tempting Nasher himself in arrogance. Before these developments she had no view of Luskans, the war barely touched West Harbor, few men there harbored the resentment and anger she found common on Neverwinter streets. The Shaman gazed at Lorne for a long moment, facing him was facing Luskan and leaving memories behind.

She made a choice then, that only she could face him…it was her trial and he used to be her friend.

* * *

The dwarf ran to the temple as fast he could, huffing under the heavy armor, head red of anger and excitement. Khelgar was angry, it was a sort of fury he encountered only once before. The huge doors gave in to his push and the mild air of the temple greeted him. He saw Raviel speaking to the priest; calm as ever. It made him even more certain in what he was about to say. This woman helped him; went to the Ironfist Stronghold for him, defended him against his brothers who would have cast him out. She slew bugbears and ogres with him. The pale aasimar was his most trusted friend, who occasionally forced him to learn where he went wrong, even though he didn't like it and most importantly, she never judged him. It was a loyalty he doubted he could ever repay in his lifetime.

"Wait!" He bellowed across the room.

"Khelgar, what are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here? I won't stand for it anymore, by the Gods, they slaughtered those people, put you on that mockery of a trial and now force your hand to combat! It's not right I tell you. Standing against that bear of a man and ye're not even a fighter!"

"Calm down."

"By the GODS I will not calm down. There must be something we can do! They can't just do that to people!"

"You feel it is unjust."

"Unjust, unjust?! It's laughable is what it is. They should be ashamed of themselves! Those vipers, they're not even human. I'd I'd-"

Once he started he couldn't stop himself, after everything they have been through, after everything his friend had been through; fighting the Githyanki, jumping on whim for Neverwinter and carrying a blasted shard in her chest. Khelgar was shaking from anger.

"You can choose a champion in your stead. Do you want this one to fight for you?"

"Aye, let _me_ fight. I owe it to ya and I want that brute punished!"

"Thank you Khelgar, I am honored you would fight for me but this is my battle. Lorne…we grew up together, if anyone should face him, it should be me."

"So you knew him…" Khelgar went silent for a while "Alright but… be careful."

The priest nodded. "I will escort your friend out and than lead you to meditate."

* * *

The statue of Tyr was sad, decorated by candles and prayers, hopes and shattered dreams. Many had come there, pledging loyalty, hoping for survival. The feet of the God were filled with candles and trinkets those praying left behind, a necklace, a doll, a hilt of a sword, scales of armor, pieces of silver, dried flowers… The doors opened and Sand entered smiling.

"I see the dwarf left, I heard him ranting across the street, actually helped me find this place. I hope you don't mind me coming in here and just speaking my mind but otherwise this would all be awfully dull."

She smiled at his words and nodded.

"I have whipped up a few concoctions to help you in the battle tomorrow, all quite within the rules." She took the satchel of potions and gave him a brief hug causing him to stutter a little.

"Well, yes, it would also be wise to think of Torio. She's on the loosing side and I don't think she likes it. She is tied to an ill conceived plot as I once felt and can in the future be used to our advantage."

"That is a good idea but I fear we have a good way ahead of us before then."

"Indeed, I'll leave you to your _meditation_; no need to thank me, it would only be embarrassing."

With that the wizard left as abruptly as he came. She relaxed for a moment when Neeshka whispered from the shadows.

"Man, was it hard to sneak past the priests but I managed and here I am. How are you feeling?"

"The priests would have let you in you know." Raviel smiled

"I'd rather not deal with them. Anyway I wanted to help and well, I brought you this ring…it might help."

Raviel took the ring form the tiefling's hand.

"I don't remember this from our hoard." The two of them called the equipment locker they had in The Flagon their _hoard_. It began as a joke at first since they only had a pair of daggers to begin with, but it amounted to three chests of equipment as their travels progressed and the title hoard became fitting.

"Weeeelll you see it sort of isn't. Let's just say there'll be a very angry nobleman in the morning." Neeshka winked curling her tail as she spoke.

"It seems strong"

"Well it's Ring of Resistance +3, the best there is. We can use it for later adventures too."

"Thanks Neeshka, I really appreciate it."

"Ya know it's the _least_ I could do. I'll be watching tomorrow so, uh…don't die." Neeshka hugged her abruptly and left, slamming the door as she went, which was quite out of character.

The aasimar sat on the floor and gazed up at Tyr's face. The maimed God stood proud, like a cliff against a storm. She admired it even though he puzzled her in his cruel kindness.

"_Tomorrow I fight in your arena; this is your land and they say you are a just God. I will place trust in myself and hope what they say is true." _She whispered to the statue but it remained unmoving, certainly having heard stronger vows and greater pleas.

"It's just a statue you know it's not Tyr watching you; but I am."

"I'm surprised you came."

"I hope you weren't expecting the paladin."

"No, you know what I mean."

Bishop sigh," I didn't want to loose the opportunity of a farewell; besides, you might need me. I can tell you about Lorne; I've been watching him train."

She nodded "Tell me then."

"He frenzies easily, stay far and provoke him. When he berserks, run, until he gets tired. When you see him slowing down, strike. Fight smart and you just might get out alive."

"Thanks Bishop." She smiled faintly at him. It was a tired smile, weary. He opened his mouth but said nothing, instead handed her a small sharp dagger.

"What is it?"

"A Courtesan Blade, quite effective."

"I'm not sure I want to know how you got it."

He frowned "I took it of a corpse, satisfied? The owner could no longer use it and well, you are handy with them."

"I like it, despite the name."

He chuckled, or it was perhaps an attempt at a laugh.

"You like it because of it. It's the most fitting gift we can give one another."

She listened to his steps as he left. The smell of herbs he used on his skin lingering behind him. The Ranger had countless faces and he could confuse her at times. She gazed down at the dagger, it was the best blade she ever had, despite or because of its name.

* * *

_Lorn__e_, he changed a lot. She remembered Lorne carrying them on his shoulders as kids and working in the fields without break. After their father died Lorne became the founding stone. Cormic and he never got along because Cormic was The Golden Boy, he was charming, witty and attractive, compared to other Harbormen at least. Lorne was quiet and somewhat fumbling with words but very gifted for magic, Tarmas didn't want him for a student, he brushed him off without a second thought and after that Lorne forgot the cantrips he learned on his own…or chose to forget them. The brawl was all he had; it defined him as the strongest man in the village, as the one everyone came to when they needed help. Perhaps that's why, he is so sad now; because his eyes revealed it, if nothing else. His towering form was hunched and laden with heavy furs, even the tattoo upon his chin deformed him…he wasn't the young man she remembered.

"Lorne, it's Raviel, don't do this! Your mother-"

"Be quiet! Just for that I'm gonna rip you into pieces."

His falchion missed her for mere inches and she remained silent. Her spells kept him at a distance, rooted him in place as she ran from him. She could hear her friends cheering, Khelgar loudest of them all and an occasional loud whistle from Neeshka. The dust of the arena went into her eyes but she learned to ignore it, it was causing trouble for Lorne as well. The wind blew without mercy. She cast down Flame Strike after Flame Strike but Lorne wasn't letting up. The tall man ran with goal in hand and she had to work quickly, her shoulder and arm were cut to the bone. Certain spells, the more powerful ones pulled her from the ground as she cast them. In those moments she was most vulnerable. The crowd however seemed to love it. The earth slammed beneath his feet, as if the jaws of nature had opened. Lorne fell between, pulling himself out in hurry. She never used a bow in combat but she pulled Daeghun's old gift from her back and, from the edge above him, aimed it at Lorne. At the small distance the arrow hit its mark and Lorne stopped struggling.

"Lorne…" She whispered lowering the weapon " if you had only listened."

"Kill me Raviel."

"But- listen-"

"Do it!" He struggled up, faintly lunging at her and the second arrow pierced his neck. She looked away as his body slammed to the ground, blood dripping on all sides. _What did this to us Lorne…what hands…Gods…fate…our mistakes…?_ The woman mused to herself gazing at his corpse. Nasher was shouting form the stands but she didn't hear him, she wasn't even listening, rather jumped down and closed Lorne's eyes.

* * *

The tavern was brink full, patrons from all over, Nasher's men, her companions… The celebration packed the house, there were no chairs to sit on, ale was running low and Sand was even forced to conjure some. Even though the taste lacked, by dawn no one could find the difference anyway.

She stood by the waters of the docks, Casavir joined her only moments earlier, neither of them in the mood for loud music and crowds of drunks.

"I am glad you persevered milady. Tyr guided your hand"

She did not answer watching the rocking ships in harbor, the wolf fur Daeghun gave her wrapped tightly around her body. She could not tell him what she thought of his _just_ God. She did not believed in one sentient being deciding the fates of many, because even a God was limited by his ideals just like any man and _that_ made him unqualified to judge anything. Good and evil are fictional traits dependant on the eye of the beholder, it was a lesson she learned even as a child.

"He was my friend Casavir. When I was little he'd carry me on his shoulders and pick apples and pears we were too short to reach. Lorne was the first to teach me how to swing a sword when I was 6… it was a joke…but still………… His mother…Casavir, how will I tell his mother I killed her son? The woman dressed me, taught me how to cook, watched over me when Daeghun was hunting and I could not follow. She had 7 kids and took me in" Her eyes glazed as she said it and her voice trembled but those were the only hints of emotion she gave away. Daeghun's way was deep inside her, taught her, formed her…crying wouldn't help.

"I…I did not know this milady." Casavir remained silent watching her. Even though she had numerous convictions he didn't understand and often told him he was a prisoner of Tyr he felt safe around her. She was honest with him, never mocked his convictions rather challenged them…forced him to…remember oaths, memories...

"Before I followed Tyr I was loud and unsettled, being the son of a rich trader does that. After I joined the Neverwinter army as spite to my father a couple of us got drunk. One of the patrons was my age, he started insulting me…that I was a hound of Nasher and that I'd gnaw the bones of his enemies in the night. The militia was broke poor and half-starved in those last years of war with Luskan. I drew my sword…laughing at him; not even aware what death was. He came at me with a dagger and a struggle ensued. He died from the wounds…I was never persecuted for it, it was war and the courts of Neverwinter had more pressing maters to attend, in fact no one even seemed to remember the matter." He sigh, "It took me years to learn to live with it and I found only the House of Tyr as my salvation. My faith may be blind but it ensures I never repeat such an act. I chain myself _because_ I am a man not because I try be something else…while your _lover"_ He paused at the word "Holds nothing in check. I worry for you for I fear the road ahead will require many sacrifices and if the shard is lodged within you no one may carry this burden for you. You must find something to hold you, a faith, an idea or a person." She remained silent for a moment, she forgot to breathe as he spoke. Casavir's eyes burning with self loathing as the heavy, iron clad words rolled off his tongue.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Casavir smiled "That was something I have _learned _to forgive myself for…that is why I told you."

"So there are…other things?"

The man bowed his head silently "Nothing similar but you will not find a man or woman of Faerun who was not grief stricken or wronged by fate at some point. We cannot let that be our excuse. Remember that if this journey becomes too difficult for you I will always be there."

The woman had never seen such a human side of The Paladin, he let his guard fall and it made him vulnerable. Casavir was somewhat afraid of her reaction, most people do not hold a murderer paladin in high regard yet he had atoned all his life and knew Tyr understood. His blade was bound to the maimed God, by pain and belief. He understood what it meant to be human, to be lacking, to make mistakes… He feared she would find The Ranger's way, the only way to be human…and he didn't want to allow that to happen.

* * *

Once Casavir was gone she left the docks. There was one more place she had to visit before she rested her head upon the pillow that night.

Winter rushing in made the streets desolate, save for The Watch and patrons returning home from the festivities. She walked without delay to the towering building housing Tyr. It was ironic Lorne's body rested there, waiting for its final rites and passing. Luskan didn't want to claim even that after he gave his life for them. She found it strange Garius would not take him for his undead army, which was reason more she wanted to see if the spirit of the deceased was treated properly. The young Gods like Tyr and their servants lacked knowledge in regard to the spirits, their tending and passing remained to the Old Way, she belonged to.

The doors of the temple gave and she asked an acolyte for the location of the body. The side chamber smelled of odd incense and Lorne's body was laid to rest on a high pedestal, dressed in a pathetic, black funeral garb. In the cold air of the room, lit only by candles left for the dead man the borderline between the waking world and spirits was faint and barely stable. Lorne's huge form seemed desolate and shallow. Cold held itself tightly to his skin and the flicker of candles made her vision of him flicker like upon the surface of water.

She kneeled on the stone floor taking powdered wyrmsage, dried deathberry and goldpetal honey oil out of a small tattered leather pouch. She placed the wyrmsage and deathberries in the mortar and pestle, lighting a single black candle in front of her. The aasimar learned this from the spirits themselves; they often required many forms of guidance from her.

She hummed a melody as she ground the ingredients and the tall halls echoed her faint voice. As she hummed the smell of the powder filled the air, tingling and heavy, it reminded of jasmine, furnace sparks and iron dust. The mists enveloped her hands first, as always. The silver mists wrapping around her, turning the red, orange flames a deep blue. She poured the honey over it and mixed it with three long white feathers. The black candle was the only light than, the other candles swallowed by the shadows. She approached the body, even though they could not reach her, heavy shadow arms held the spirit trapped within and it did not resist, almost willowed in its cruel fate.

Raviel dipped the feathers into the oily liquid still humming silently and traced a line from the forehead over the nose and lips. The line denied the body be risen from the dead. Petals of dried white lilies were placed on the deceased's eyes so the fey would have an offering and not tear out his eyes. She took both of his hands and turned them so the palms were facing upwards; on them too the oily substance was dripped and spread with the touch of feathers, so the sins of his hands would not bind him to a mortal master. A couple of knotted thick ropes were placed on his ankles and than cut with a dagger coated with the substance as well; to break any bindings denying him to move forward.

As she continued with the ritual she felt herself become weaker, her own energy dripping over the bounds Garius placed jet luckily these rituals were older than Garius, older even than the King of Shadows and they gave way. As she kneeled by the altar her hands were trembling and she was cold. The aasimar closed her eyes curling together, heavy steps vibrated on her skin but gave no sound.

"What have you done?" Lorne's voice probed, uncertain and strong.

"I have undone your master's magic, now if you still seek to join him it is of your free will not at his command."

Lorne watched the woman before him. Her spirit was close to the surface, she was weak and near death. The melody she hummed still lingering in the air around him, warm and healing. Raviel was a little kid when he last saw her, running over the marshes days on end. The memory of those times was good but she too saw him loose, even defeated him as well. He died without proving himself and the spirit was still in uproar about it.

"I didn't need your pity."

"I am Daeghun's child Lorne, I do not pity."

"Than why? I would not have paused for you! I would have cut you down without mercy."

"You are almost a brother…even though you wouldn't understand."

"No, I don't."

"You never had anything to prove, I'm sorry no one made you realize that sooner."

"Don't be, it was my choice. I wanted the power."

"You'll always be Big Lorne to me, no matter how many shadows you pull around you."

He huffed watching her as she slowly regained power, relaxing her muscle. "I don't want to be Big Lorne, I want to be powerful, respected and even feared…nothing of which I got in West Harbor. That village of muck farmers and reek holds nothing but pain."

"Bevil wouldn't think so and neither would I. Your mother is still searching for any news about you…I don't know how I'll tell her-"

"Stop mentioning her to me!" He bellowed making the air tremble as he did. His eyes were angry.

"Why?"

"Because she's the reason I wanted to prove something. My ma was a fighter and you know it, dad was a spell caster like West Harbor hadn't seen. It was a shame on our name…I was."

"I can't tell you how parents think… I just know Retta missed you and I don't think a stupid brawl made much of a difference."

"I can't… I can't accept that."

She sat there aware she could either make him see now or he'd be proving himself for the rest of eternity. Raviel also understood that accepting the simple truth would open his eyes to the mistakes he made in life and that's the hardest challenge for a spirit.

"Is there something I should tell her or Bevil?"

"Tell my baby brother to never give up and…not to end like me. Tell ma…just…Goodbye. I never did that."

She nodded, no longer able to sustain herself in the pocket of spirits. The vision vanished and she found herself in the side chamber of the temple, orange lit and somewhat warmer. Cold had left the body on the altar, it rested now, peacefully.

* * *

Elanee stood just outside Neverwinter, she understood what they were fighting for but had begun to grow even more lonely. The druidess felt cold and threatened amongst the high walls, a feeling Raviel understood, but could not help her. Elanee heard the cries of her animals as she slept, now maddened and torn apart by the King of Shadows. She belonged with the nature there, belonged to the swamps and their inhabitants. Raviel did not accompany her to Skymirror, didn't hear the words of her elder… the faint and weak words of her people. Neverwinter would stand, as it always did. It had people like Raviel and Casavir to defend it, the wildlands of Merdelain had no one, they were forsaken. She thought long about going to find a way into the Mere but for now she was too weak and the shadows too powerful.

* * *

Upon her return she re-wrapped her arm and sat cross legged on the table by the window. Cold was creping in. The waters in the distance were calm, dark and pressured by a heavy hanging blanket of black clouds. The knock on the door was calm.

"Yes?"

Sand's step was light as he closed the door behind him and rested against the windowsill, watching as she starred almost dazed into the distance. The coldness of the room and the darkness, even the moistness in the air and a faint smell of sea water that had crept in the old wood of the building, her unmade bed and pile of leathers on the corner of it, a few glistening embers in the fire, her profile, her calm eyes, the serenity of her breathing under the moonlight; silence…it burned into his brain, like that, he would most probably remember her forever.

"You vanished from your own feast."

"I can't remember the last time-" She did not finish the sentence, her words were heavy and drawn. Sand's breathing the only sound save for the waves in the distance. The commotion from the Hall could not be heard.

"I brought a barrel of the ale purgative for the morning, even though I doubt it will be _enough._ I wanted to speak with you at least for a moment."

She nodded, gazing at him calmly. Her eyes were heavy, tired, worn… when they met those eyes had much more life about them.

"I wanted to tell you I am delighted by everything you've done and I would extend my services to you for as long as you require me."

Raviel smiled, honestly happy that Sand proposed it.

"What about your shop?"

"Don't worry I placed a merchant elemental."

"There are such things?" Her eyes widened in disbelief and the wizard chuckled.

"You can borrow any of my books, I doubt West Harbor offered much in your apprenticeship."

She nodded almost excited at the opportunity, West Harbor indeed offered a very crude selection of books. He smiled genuinely happy she wanted to learn more about her craft.

"I will leave you to rest and we can speak more in the morning."

"Of course-"

"Oh, and I believe the ranger might be stopping by shortly, he seemed _bored enough_."

She nodded gazing as the wizard was about to leave.

"No matter your reasons for being with such a man…you've done an excellent job of binding him to your services…at least for now."

"We'll see, I expect nothing…but such a sharp view is…refreshing."

Sand chuckled again as he left.

* * *

The ale hit him harder than he imagined. The others had cleared out, those that hadn't passed out on the floor. He stuttered down the hallway, rested against the frame of his door but there was something else he jet desired.

As always the wolf persevered, he went after his prey.

He broke open the door and gazed straight at her, she was surprised at his force but said nothing for that moment. Raviel sat opposite of the fire, hair unbraided and the broad night gown wrapped around her, hiding the skin he desired beneath. He rigged the door shut before he approached her. Neither said a word but his eyes devoured her. The flame's glow licked her skin as he pushed her back, the heavy scent of rose cool in his nostrils. The nightgown gave in quickly under the tear; he forced her to look at him, leaning into her as much as possible under the kiss. His armor dropped on the floor reasonably quickly, her breathing having intensified he noted but paid no heed.

The need was primal, it had to be satisfied. He bit into her neck, making sure to leave his mark as he entered into her; she whimpered at the pain, a tear sliding down her cheek as her eyes faced the wall, starring at anything but him. Bishop was too drunk to notice, too aroused to care. His body was so much stronger than hers; it loomed above trapping, a horrid beauty. His breathing was ragged, torn, one of his hands tangled in her hair as he held her head in place, the other pulling her body against him. Her body shivered occasionally, the thrusts more pain than pleasure. His arm suddenly gripped around her neck, tightly and she panicked at the lack of air, at the strength by which he began claiming her body with his own. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, the coldness of her fingers reminding him to loosed his grip, if only by little.

His lips wrapped around her nipple and she shuddered, afraid he might bite or even cause her to bleed there as well. His teeth did sink into the flesh but her yelp discouraged him. He used all his strength upon her, it was not something he could control even if he wanted to… because there wasn't a single part of her that he didn't desire. The pain made her fear him, focusing was hard and she couldn't move under his hands at all. She barely mustered a spell after failing to chant it three times…it knocked him out cold after a few seconds, forcing him to sleep. Pain and weakness caused her to faint soon after, whatever energy the spirits left Bishop tore from her.

* * *

She woke early; wrapped in the blankets tightly, pain vibrating where there should be no pain at all. Her shoulders, her neck, her entire body, she felt worse than after any battle. She knew she had to get to the bathroom before the others. She took a sharp breath and stood in the coldness of the room, gathering armor and a sheet quickly; she wrapped the cloak tightly around herself and took a run for the bathroom. She locked the door, dawn's light seeping in through the small window by the ceiling. She looked at herself in the wall-sized mirror that had a thin crack on its surface. Her fingertips rested against the glass, her body was swollen and bruised, her neck a darker tint where his fingers wrapped around. She swallowed some spit and wiped her face. She filled half the tub with water and crouched inside, washing the painful areas slowly, immersing her hair into the water, lying there she stared at the ceiling. For the unnecessary cruelty she would not forgive him.

* * *

Bishop woke with a groan, his body relaxed to a point he didn't want to move not to upset the feeling of comfort. His muscles were relaxed and his breathing even. He sat up; holding his head…but he felt no pain despite the hangover.

His things lay scattered about the room and he pulled them on quickly, the memories of the past night returning only fleetingly and it was a while before full memory dawned in. He stopped mid track remembering the fire and her body, the sweetness of it and the smell, his skin still held remnants of her oils, his hands smelled of roses. The feeling in his gut creped up and held onto his intestates. He had done worse things to women, but those were…paid, willing, strangers.

He opened the door to the hallway and their gazes met, she was dressed, weapons strapped but she did not say a word as she walked past him. He averted his gaze to the floor. He entered the bathroom to wash his face and mouth but the mirror was annoying, it revealed scratches upon his skin, attempts at struggle. The gaze of his eyes infuriated him up until his blood boiled. He spat the water and slammed his fist against it. The epicenter of it crumbled sending hundreds of long cracks over its surface until he could barely recognize himself in the remaining pieces. He washed his bleeding hand and wrapped it sloppily before pulling on the glove. Elanee stared at him as he exited the bathroom, shock evident on her face as she noticed the mirror.

It wasn't that he hurt her that taunted his anger; it was that now they were even, or worse he was in debt to her and he destroyed everything he planned until than.

She was eating by the counter, her body unusually rigid and she chewed slowly, swallowing with difficulty. It was her own fault that she was so beautiful, even now when he gazed at her. He took some food to his usual table. Duncan willowing behind the counter, swallowing Sand's ale purgative like it was the elixir of life.

"Did you sleep all right lass, we didn't make too much of a ruckus did we?"

"No, it was a good night."

"_There it is, the mask again, calm, chill, collected. She wouldn't tell anyone, it would be too much, she wouldn't dare."_ He wallowed in his thoughts, starring at her without even trying to hide it. He chewed quickly gulping down the meat with mouthfuls of distilled ale purgative. Figures Duncan wouldn't share the good stuff.

The crackling of the fire forced him to think about it, of the shine of her skin under fire light, like ember and as soft as silk. Her hair was messily bundled up and he remembered the feeling of the strands upon his hand. He curled his fist and hissed in pain dropping the almost empty glass on the table. The liquid spilled, dripping down the table, a faint red color. He stormed outside, regurgitating breakfast and last night's dinner, his body shaking as he did so, one arm steadying him against the wall of the inn. _She bled._

He sat against the railing breathing deeply attempting to calm his gut. The doors of the tavern opened. Neeshka, Raviel and Khelgar, a small party he noted. His prey walked by without looking at him.

"Wait."

"You're not going this time lad, the less the better."

"I wasn't talking to you-"Bishop hissed with more spite than Khelgar had ever heard from him.

"Don't mind rabid dogs Khelgar, just walk past."

"Aye, but this one should be put down or at least neutered."

Bishop twitched,

"We have no time, Brelaina has summoned us."

"If you say so lass." The dwarf ran up catching up to them.

"What crawled up his shorts this morning?" Neeshka chippered "he even smashed the mirror."

"That dimwit, now I won't be able to bring my' self to decency each morning." They all laughed, considering it was Khelgar who said it.

"I ain't joking lasses, this beard needs to be combed and braided at least once a week, it's an old dwarven secret."


	9. The Way to Crossroad Keep

Ch. 9 The Way to Crossroad Keep

Neverwinter Castle was sturdy and large, carved out of the bedrock surrounding the city. It stood as a testament to the stubbornness and determination of the northern nations. The city had fallen three times and arose anew each time over. The skeleton of The North was old and far spread; Never Castle was its backbone, it tied all things together. While Casavir gazed at those halls with respect and admiration Raviel just wanted to run away from the numerous gates and heavy chains that locked them. A soft icy wind crept up those walls, shattered, upon glass blue murals. Silk gloved, soft footed nobles gazed as they passed. Scent of their perfumes tricked their way to her nose. Lines of gold gilded robes, many layers of silk ruffled as they moved and she knew their little band did not belong. Lord Nasher sat upon his throne calmly, regal in demeanor, in every placed word. Like Casavir, she found him bound to his servitude and everyone else bound to him. Nevall's eyes lit up as he watched his sire, as if he looked upon the face of a God, his own soul, life and wishes forgotten, stomped, buried beneath this admiration…beneath _servitude. _

"You have summoned?"

"As a squire of Neverwinter you hold certain _duties. _In light of recent developments we need you to head the attack upon Crossroad Keep where Garius is performing his ritual." Nasher's words were a hammer to her heart; the last nail slammed taking away freedom. Since Aldanon revealed how closely she was bound to the King of Shadows…how important the _shard_ inside her was she began to understand she would never be free of him. Not until one of them was dead and Nasher would use her in this as he has used every _Hero of Neverwinter_ before her.

Casavir would be appalled at the thoughts but Bishop would be proud; she wanted neither. She gazed over to Sand who gave her a thin reassuring smile…he was bound to Neverwinter just in that way. His sharp eyes darted across the room, he felt history replay itself as he too once stood before Nasher. He requested safety, sanctuary and the high nobles of Neverwinter granted him this after humiliating him and taking what he most loved…his work at the academy. He _owed_ them, he had to become an informant, an inside man, squandering his days and talent on petty charms and dock smugglers. He understood what her panicked gaze told him, even though the others did not. Nasher did the same to her, for saving her life he took what she valued most, her freedom and charged her for it with a bill of servitude…a bill she would pay in blood. That was the trouble with Nasher, he thought what he saved was his to do with as he deemed necessary. From a ruler's point of view, of course, that would be wise and prudent… but from the view of one such _puppet_ it was equal to slavery. He crossed his arms, waiting what would come next, surely he would not send them in alone.

"The cloak tower mages are already waiting for you, hurry."

* * *

A thunderstorm was brewing outside, not a common thing so far north. Sand was scanning the heaven, his eyes flashing worry and spite.

"I believe it may be magical."

"Would Garius command power that would reach even here?"

Sand shook his head, his thin fingers sliding over the silk of his robes, fumbling with the fabric. "I do not know."

"We cannot just allow it!" Elanee slammed her hand into the table, thin veins visible on her neck and frustration in glazed over eyes.

"Elanee is correct, it is our duty and our responsibility-"

"Perhaps yours but not mine." Bishop cut off the paladin, resting his back on the wall. Casavir stood unblinking, almost devoid of any sincere emotion. The faint light surrounding his hammer was dripping to the floor and vanishing. When Raviel would gaze at him, all she saw was that hammer and wounded eyes. Neeshka was warming her hands on the fire, her tail nervously twitching.

"Well, we don't need ya ranger, you have my fists Raviel!" Khelgar said firmly standing up abruptly from his table.

"-a-and mine." Shandra half whispered, she was withdrawn from the entire discussion, sitting in her corner. Raviel knew this was all a bit too much for her and didn't intend to put her up against Garius, if possible. Shandra was holding a small wishbone, rubbing it excessively. The spirit shaman stood by the window, gazing at the sky with Sand, she was listening to their words but found it hard to make a decision…whom to bring…whose life to risk…?

"Well, milady if I may propose…I would rather NOT go headfirst into danger-"

"Don't worry Grobnar you'll stay behind and guard the Flagon." The little gnome twirled in place, even though the others found him a coward, she valued his sincerity. Rather he tells her now than freezes up when necessary. "Shandra, Sand and Qara will stay too."

The elf nodded, attempting to hide the fact he was annoyed but most of them noticed it with little effort.

"No, you promised, I'm coming with you." Shandra's eyes reminded her of an angry lamb in that moment and it was almost funny, if she wasn't so serious. The shaman wasn't about to let an extra sword stand by idle and if Shandra was willing to risk her life she was coming along.

"My services are yours, if you find I am of greater use here so be it _but_ I don't agree." Sand mused.

"Neeshka-" Raviel began but the tiefling was starring like bedazzled into the flames. "What do you think?"

"I…" She unsheathed her dagger. "If you need me I'll come but I can't say I love storming a fort head first."

Raviel nodded, tapping her fingertips on the table. "For now, I see no other option."

The smell of burnt wood and ale floated in the moist air and breathing came heavy on the lungs. The storm outside wasn't letting down and getting to the Keep in such weather would be difficult in itself. Duncan stood behind his counter, worried eyes gazed the people in his Inn. This girl, who was not bound to him with blood but felt like kin all the same was completely alone in his eyes. He adventured enough to see the nature of people and playing the fool came much later… Death and pain could only be helped by ale and with time it became an addiction…a lullaby. He now watched them with a refreshed memory of passed times. The women were weak, in mind and in body, even she persevered as the _hero_ only barely. Of the men, the only ones capable and trustworthy were the paladin and the dwarf but they were stubborn and proud in excess. They would both storm to their deaths not even considering the consequences of such _valor_; not noticing that if they burn up in their glorious struggle…Raviel would remain alone. He cleaned the cup almost dazed, the room hung in tense silence. Everyone was waiting for her decision, no one dared even a suggestion, or perhaps none of them had any.

Bishop was looking at her intensely, following every movement, even a flinch. He wasn't remorseful, he didn't even understand the meaning of the word but he was edgy because he _knew_ retribution was coming. The shaman's eyes revealed it when she would look at him.

"Bishop, Khelgar and Casavir, you'll come with me. Everyone besides those mentioned waiting on the outskirts of the Keep. Kill anyone attempting to retreat; we can't let any of their priests live."

"Is it wise, sending her with us?" Elanee asked nudging her head to Shandra.

"Hey, I'm right here you know!" Shandra shouted.

"It's her choice; just like it's yours…I won't forbid her to help me." Raviel smiled as she said it, crossing her arms.

"You have my hammer milady and my life." The Ranger rolled his eyes.

The aasimar breathe in deeply. If they were skilled enough and lucky enough they just might pull through. "That's all well and good-" Bishop mused "But I don't remember offering my help, in fact, I'm thinking about staying here any enjoying a good ale."

Raviel laughed at him outright. "You actually believe…you'll be staying behind in any way but dead?"

The silence that fell upon the room was pressured, uncomfortable and entrapping. Bishop's face went sour. "So you'd actually force my hand?"

Her eyes were acid dripping upon his very soul but Bishop stared furious as if his soul consisted of the very liquid.

"You _owe_ me."

None of their companions said a word but failed to understand the true point of their argument.

"Very well than, ladyship, I'll add more corpses to your tab." The man spat it out in a worse way than they had ever seen.

* * *

She walked calmly, every step well placed, soundless in her approach…Bishop stared; he liked to watch her move. The Ranger lingered by the tree, resting against it with a gloved hand. The moist bark crumbled beneath the ghost touch. They were all there, progressing like a hoard through the forests. It was not subtle and it annoyed her, he noticed the furrow of her brow when she would look upon them. Winter was coming and the days were getting shorter, she had to call camp for the night even though they didn't tread the distance she planned. The gold haired woman stood by the stream, stripping off backpack and cloak. The chill of the air did not bother her, growing up in the wildlands and the icy waters of the Mere prepared her for it. The woman bathed quickly, washing bruised skin from dirt and blood of the road. Even though The Ranger wasn't capable of feeling sorry, he wasn't proud of what he'd done either. The lack of control, the injury he caused on a _mate_ was not something he could forgive himself…not without killing her at least. Parts of her revealed flesh dripped water and her hair was pulled up messily, she was almost like a painting in that moment. Goose-bumped skin and pieces of clothes pathetically attempting to keep her warm painted a landscape of silk and leather. He approached her silently, not noticing Neeshka was coming to the stream for water. The tiefling was silent by nature and the shadows proved a second skin. She noticed Raviel's wounds instantly and recognized them well enough…a tiefling in Faerun learned such things at a very young age. She noticed Bishop moving forward and hid behind the tree, breathing in the evening, woodland scent deeply. The Ranger stood in the stream behind her.

"What do you want?" She whispered gently.

"What will you do?"

"I won't give you the pleasure of knowing."

Bishop grabbed the hilt of his dagger and so did Neeshka. Raviel pulled her cloak above the water's surface and it wrapped snug around her as she rose from her kneeling position. The fading light made gold burn above the treetops but shadow held the stream in cold and darkness.

"You would attack me from behind?" Raviel raised an eyebrow turning her head to him slightly and he remained silent gazing in her eyes. Dark marks of his hands still staining her elegant neck. "Pathetic. You are not the man I thought you are."

His ego took a beating and he did not know her heart was racing. The aasimar feared him now, feared the unblinking eyes focused on hers and jet he seemed as calm as ever and she hated him for it. Bishop took a few steps forward and stood dead in front of her, the top of her head just beneath his nose.

"Why did you not defend yourself?" He whispered it, as if it were a secret only they could share. His hands made no attempt to reach her, he kept them motionless by his thighs.

"If I hadn't, I'd be dead."

The faint aura of light her emerald eyes emanated drew him in. For such a shabby wolf was drawn to her fire but before his hand could grab hers she stepped back and a wave of frozen water slammed against him causing him to fall on his back. The cold went to his bones and by the time he managed to shake it off and stand he just barely caught a glimpse of her cloak returning to the campsite.

* * *

Orange glow of embers, the play of flame tongues upon the air and a silent murmur of semi-private conversations defined the campsite and its surroundings. The bonfire was kindled fairly large since there was a lot of them and the nights were already well bellow freezing point. Neeshka sat down next to her, the tiefling crossed her legs and said nothing for a moment. Raviel was finishing dinner, wrapped in Daeghun's fur .

"You know you can trust me right?" Neeshka muttered and Raviel smiled.

"Of course, you've earned my trust."

"Than, why didn't you tell me Bishop… forced himself on you?"

The aasimar was genuinely surprised. "I'm not sure it is as simple as that but………how do you know?"

"I noticed your wounds…when I went to the stream to get some water."

"I don't want to, " She sigh, "I can't talk about it, it was my fault just as much."

"Doubtful, I just don't understand why he's here?"

"Don't worry about it; I can take care of myself."

"Why didn't you kill him? …That's what I'd do; a dagger in his throat at night, poison in the water."

"Have you done this before?"

"Yes and they deserved it and Bishop deserves it too."

"It was my error in judgment, if I kill him we loose a tracker; my personal vengeance cannot stand before the well being of the group." As she said it she felt almost like Daeghun; the complete annihilation of personal needs for the logical path. Neeshka twirled her tail nervously.

"We don't need him, no one trusts him." Neeshka said it sharply. "I could mix up a poison-"

"No, my vengeance will be up close and personal. Poison is a fine method but I _want_ something different."

"Is…everything alright?"

Raviel nodded and the tiefling smiled grabbing a piece of bread and continuing the meal. There was no wind that night and the sky was cloudy and dark, another storm was coming. Shandra was pretending to sleep but she overheard them. Her fingers held the blanket tightly, the words shocked her and she didn't know what to do about it.

The young woman held the fur close but sleeping came hard. Raviel's eyes focused of Bishop as he sat by the fire. His wolf eyes melted with the fire and he sharpened his longsword silently. The feeling in her gut was disgust and confusion. She was obsessed and furious with him, it was not a feeling she knew, not one she learned how to deal with. Crossroad Keep was far enough from her mind and her heart.

The Ranger knew she was watching, felt her gaze on his hands, on his face. His…_standing_ with her hadn't changed. She still felt kindred, her body still felt like the only furnace he'd call a home or at least a haven. She was still the only person he found smart and useful…and safe. The feeling of _safety_ overwhelmed him when she was with him…it was something he wanted to own like one owns a bow or a dagger but it didn't work like that, not really. He wasn't prepared to change who he was for such safety and so he decided if he wouldn't have it, no one should.

* * *

Dawn broke in quickly, a thin layer of ice fell upon the trees and grass. Mists hung low and the sky was fairly dark. Fresh air pierced nostrils and woke sharply. They shook awake their almost frozen limbs, moved quickly to get some warmth.

"Where's the druid?" Bishop noticed it first and after a moment they all started calling out for Elanee. Her cot was missing and there was no note or sign of her departure.

"By the Gods where's that tree worshipper gone off to now!?"

"I can't believe she would do his when we need her!" Neeshka shouted furiously, packing her things in hurry.

"Neeshka when you're done go check by the water; has anyone heard anything?" Raviel was scanning the trees for some mark of passing or struggle.

"They shook their heads while Shandra and Casavir were shouting out Elanee's name.

"Forget about her, we need to hurry and she can handle herself in a forest." Bishop's words challenged Raviel who still waited for Neeshka to return.

"Look 'ere, Ranger, we leave no one behind!" Khelgar shouted.

Shandra was looking to the bickering group, she was partly afraid Bishop hadn't done something since he didn't seem the least bit surprised. Raviel gazed to Neeshka who was returning through the underbrush but shaking her head disappointedly.

"Raviel we could break into pairs, scout the land, perhaps she went ahead and fell in a trap." Khelgar's plan was sound but it would take time, perhaps the entire day.

"Even if that's true, dwarf, splitting up will just cause more confusion and we don't have time, we have a full day's march-"

"Perhaps you don't want us to look because you have something to hide?" Shandra asked loudly.

"Please, farm girl, you can't blame me for _everything._"

"Perhaps we should, just as a precaution."

"Shandra, what's gotten into you?" Neeshka asked placing a hand on the woman's shoulder.

Raviel took a few steps back while they bickered, the wind was still and the first thunderbolts slammed from heaven. She didn't want to leave her friend but since her things were gone as well…she feared Elanee might have left them.

"I hate to say it, but, we really need to move. Elanee made her choice, whatever it was, if we linger now…I don't know the consequences."

"But, Raviel!" Khelgar shouted.

"What Khelgar? Should I sacrifice everything? What should I do? You leave the decisions up to me, so either do as I say or go your own way. We've already alerted any enemies for a mile around by this shouting alone."

"I'll do as ya say, but I'm against it. She's a friend and we shouldn't leave friends behind."

"Didn't it cross your mind dwarf, that your _friend_ left _us_ behind?" Bishop spat before grabbing his gear and following Raviel into the wilderness.

The green eyed woman was passing Casavir in her angry march.

"Raviel" He whispered and she stopped.

"I understand your decision." She smiled reassured and walked on.

* * *

They had been walking for hours, noon long passed and the thunderstorm wasn't letting down, a heavy rainfall stopped the fires from spreading but they moved on slow, weighted down by wet packs and clothing, treading through mud and thick undergrowth. Silence and gloom were in the air and among them. Mists of electricity hung high above them and they kept their weapons sheeted. Shandra watched Raviel and Bishop at the front. Nothing changed, their movements were equally practiced, equally familiar. She was beginning to be uncertain weather the words she overheard were perhaps a dream.

"Will we be stopping soon?" Shandra shouted so they could hear. Raviel turned squinting, wet hair stuck to her face, her eyes even more luminescent in the odd, bleakness of the world around them.

"We have no time; we will not stop until we get there. Casavir, is your armor a problem, you can take it off and we'll divide the load?"

The man shook his head and pushed forward, his sharp eyes gazing at her seriously. Bishops hooded figure was hidden by a tree, Shandra noticed he starred at Raviel. Neeshka was taking a breather and pushed both the women to move on, even she wasn't about to complain, stopping wouldn't help them, there was no dry place for miles.

Khelgar was murmuring to himself as he walked, slashing his way with his axe, he still carried it even though he finished his monk training, as a memento of sorts. He couldn't believe they didn't even look for Elanee and he couldn't believe she'd just leave like that. What that wisp of a girl was even thinking, he thought, leaving them like that…not a word to anyone… he thought he knew her…thought they were friends. Friends don't do things like that. The sky was dark and the Keep wasn't that close, he understood they need to hurry. Their entire band was loosing faith, loosing strength. He knew it wasn't Raviel's fault but he wondered…if she could return the belief and the unity before things went to Hell.

Shandra occasionally got stuck in the mud but Casavir and Neeshka would help, Khelgar still seemed down and Raviel and Bishop were scouting ahead for dry land, the right direction and enemies. Neeshka went forward to talk to Khelgar wrapping an already wet cloak tighter in a pathetic attempt to get warm.

"Casavir."

"Yes, Shandra?"

"Do you think we'll make it, before we freeze to death?"

"Of course, as long as we're moving and our toes are in the mud, we'll be fine."

The woman nodded silently as they pushed forward, last of the entire party.

"Is there something else on your mind?"

The blond woman was uncertain weather to speak or remain silent and she walk on in the thoughts for some time. Bishop and Raviel were far away and they were far enough so no one could hear even if she told him…

* * *

The earth was wet beneath his fingers, he kneeled scanning the distance, but nothing would come out in such weather. His bow was on his back and his senses were heightened. Bishop did his best work when circumstances were against him, it had always been so. The constant bellowing of thunder and rain made sound the least reliable sense but even a storm couldn't hide The Paladin. The hooded ranger stood, a shadow over his face, leathers tightly bound to his body, he was the only one not soaked to the bone. The smell of mud and rain filled his nostrils as he breathed in sharply.

"What?"

The Paladin did not move.

"Did you do it?"

"What?"

"Did you………force her?"

Bishop paused for a moment, but only for a moment. "No."

"I have been told otherwise."

Bishop knew she did not tell Casavir, she wasn't an idiot but someone must have somehow figured something out, which was surprising considering their intelligence and perception. He gazed at the Paladin, it was none of his business…she could-

"But not by her." Bishop cut off his own train of thought

Casavir relaxed somewhat "No, that is true."

"If she has problems with me, she can handle them." Bishop growled, one hand curling to a fist. The smell of wet leather and a tight silence made him edgy. Bishop wasn't a fool, like this, one on one with a clear sight Casavir could kill him.

"For now, I will not push it. If she ever even hints you've done something-"

"Will you kill me Paladin? Go against your God?"

"My God kills men like you." With that the Paladin left him, in the howling silence of thunder.

* * *

The courtyard was blood drenched and she stood up to her knees in remnants of her enemies. Thunder whipped the land around and a fierce wind stormed the walls. Smell of charred flesh, moldy, wet wood and urine filed the air. Behind the decrepit buildings her allies were still fighting, still trying to claw their way inside. The green eyed woman stood motionless, her breath painting a colorless air.

His gloved hand held the wood of the crate rigidly, in pain holding himself up…so he could see her. Yellow eyes were hazed over and he felt no pain, only numbness. He had been careless…and the arrows pierced his back. Slamming against the flesh like a numb pain, 1,2,3,4… He lay in the gored mud puddle for a few moments before she arrived, gazing at him…in silence. He knew she was weighing her decision. The courtesan blade tightly grasped by slender fingers.

"I could bring you silence. Release you from your frenzied run."

He tried to speak but spat out blood instead, still defiantly starring at her.

"I choose not to." She placed her hands on his back, one hand healing the other pulling the arrows out. The steel tore flesh, caused pain and he bit down on his gloved hand to silence the screams.

* * *

Vshard gave a great massive review! Thank you

So I did a full edit on the first 9 chapters still thinking about the 10th :) thanks for reading and all input and critic is welcome


	10. Crossroad Keep I

Ch. 10 Crossroad Keep

The halls were crumbling and dark, drowned in a smell of dead, maggot-filled wood and blood that rose from the sacrifice pits of priests and their macabre brotherhood. A storm raged through that keep, binding dead spirits to forever abide among its halls. She felt it, shuddered at this binding, loosing her hold upon her own power. Garius lay dead before them. Black gowns spread through pools of his crimson essence. Eyes of her companions came to watch her, her gaze flew over them, into them, through them. In flurry of vision she sought a place to hold but there was nothing. Chains of the spirit world held her neck tightly, tied her hands strongly, pulled her away from them. Knees slammed against a stone floor, pain ran through the shaking body. They began to move, echo of their footsteps. The Shaman fell, head slammed against the blood pools of her enemies, their blood seeping into her mouth, into her eyes. In a bright blindness she shook, floated into nothingness.

The improvised cot was in the crumbling hall, beneath a hollow roof that dripped water upon the stone tiles and moldy old carpeting. Raviel was placed upon it without words, her daggers beside her. Cold gripped her skin, like golden dust upon the dew. A few rays of appearing sunlight pierced into the ruin, into the silence. Upon the softness of her skin gore still clung tightly…

Her companions stood in shadow of the room, away from the sun lit cot and their dead leader. Shandra was crying yet no one comforted her; no one even gazed in her direction. They were drowned in their own thoughts, in their doubts…in fear.

Bishop ran, like he always did, even wounded as he was, to the wildlands; far from the fool companions, from Nasher's men and even more so from responsibility.

Khelgar kneeled by his axe, restraining tears, loosing his balance…loosing a friend. His dark eyes remained closed; he could not watch; even if he opened them wide they would remain blind.

Neeshka remained there for a few moments before moving away, slipping into the shadows for some safety. The young tiefling went as far as she could from her friend's body.

Casavir stood proud, feigned an expression of stone. Held his hammer and waited… there was jet so much to be done.

Neeshka sat by one of the smoldering pyres; a warm glow reflecting off the delicate skin of her neck and cheeks, glistening warmly in the darkness of her eyes. The woman held her dagger tightly, one Raviel gave to her along with a strange poison they used to coat the blade.

Neeshka got used to being alone a long time ago; when she was in the hands of Helmites and even more so later upon the streets of Neverwinter. Her introduction with the city of heroes was brutal. Neeshka met the criminal minds that came before Moire, men who had no honor and no allegiance. She was drafted by force into their service, with 12, serving mostly with her body. Things, she didn't want to remember. Those days taught her, humans know no mercy for tieflings.

Even when she managed to escape, seeking shelter among the fearsome eyes of Neverwinter… she was turned away by armored hands and merciless eyes… eyes like Casavir's, duty driven, blind wide eyed. Her punishment would have been brutal but Neeshka hid and gutted those who pursued her. She paid for her freedom in blood and proclaimed a mental war against the world.

Neeshka lived to see 20, more than anyone thought she would until a band of greedy soldiers decided to end that "lucky streak". She thought she would die but there was this one stubborn person walking from the southwest, a silhouette on the dying sun. She smelled of the upper planes, death and magic. The dwarf beside her smelled of iron, charred wood and spirits. The guards paused, prolonged the game as this strange band walked toward them. Neeshka didn't hope for a savior, the time of heroes had ended.

The green eyed woman was strange; her eyes were aflame with her spiritual heritage and she aroused fear among the men she faced. The tattered clothes were odd furs and leathers sown together and decorated with skulls and teeth. The dwarf like some odd pendant that rolled behind her, strong headed but calmed with soft words. Of all the people of Faerun, of priests, monks, paladins, thieves, assassins, mages, magistrates, soldiers and merchants Neeshka found one person who would risk their life for a tiefling; a planar touched, muck-farmer's daughter who thought she could talk to spirits.

She sat silently, watching the last sparks die in the pyre. Khelgar's heavy steps tore her from her reverie. She met the dwarf's heavy gaze. Khelgar was confused between anger and sorrow.

"I'm going… I'm gonna search for the tree-worshipper."

"Why?"

"Because… we need all the friends we have and they need us." Khelgar wiped an almost dry eye with a hand. "Darn dust, keeps getting in me eyes."

* * *

Casavir sat by the body, he remained vigil, even when the others could not. The paladin's pale hands were still, they felt heavy and impossible to move. His breath painted the air, breathed life into the room. He gazed at the beautiful woman and began to wash the gore off her cold remains.

The Paladin remained silent as he washed her face, placed a hand on her cheek as if she would react to the caress. In the end… he could not even protect her life. The man paused his action as the thought sank in; held his hands to his eyes tightly, warm and safe in the darkness of his vision…

Shandra stood by the doorway, waited a while before Casavir collected himself, she did not want him to feel uncomfortable by her presence. He had a right to say goodbye to Raviel on his own terms.

"Is everything alright Casavir?"

"No Shandra, yet how could it be?" He paused for a while. "I would appreciate your help, she needs to be clothed in a funeral garb and I find a woman would be better suited for this task."

Shandra paused, slowly walking forward. She looked down onto the woman's face, only now daring to come close. She had mixed feelings for the shaman, she was a friend of sorts but Shandra found her confusing and often cold in her dealings. The fiery woman was also aware Raviel commanded more attention in her life than anyone before, she taught her, changed her, opened Shandra's eyes to a different world; a brutal world.

"I don't know Casavir…perhaps someone else should."

"There is no one here; would you allow her to be burned without a proper last rite?"

"You are right, I owe her that much." She whispered it with a sigh. Shandra sat by her but remained motionless, allowing Casavir to slowly recite a prayer. The candles burned slowly, wax dripping to the cold stone beneath.

"Did you love her Casavir?"

"It is hard not to." He paused as if he revealed too much "Could you find one of our companions who does not?"

"I never thought the bonds were as strong. I doubt anyone even understood her."

"Didn't you ask yourself… why anyone would follow a stranger, even more, be willing to give their life for them?" Casavir smiled again. Without a moment of judgment, complete acceptance of his mistakes and his virtues. What he thought a sin that colored his life, she found no sin at all… It was perhaps Tyr's will he receive this liberation.

Shandra said nothing, gazing down at her hands. Perhaps if they had had more time she would have learned…would have understood.

* * *

With the ritual interrupted the cloud filled skies were broken by a frosty winter sun. Its golden rays tickled the cold air and wet woodland, shimmering in the floating mist. The forests fell silent in winter as the creatures returned to their burrows to slumber or hid among the barren trees in search for food. Bishop stood in a treeless patch, gazed at a tiny waterfall filling a shallow, clear stream that continued to run through the forest until eventually joining up with some greater current. The Ranger sniffed the air deeply; a familiar smell of moist leaves and cold, fresh, evening air snapped him to full awareness. The pain in his back was an ever present reminder of her hands; of the fact that in the end she even saved his life.

He was free now.

Raviel's death broke all chains from him. He could run with Karnwyr to the end of his days without having to look over his shoulder. The great wolf walked toward him from the nearby cliff. The creature's dark fur and jeweled eyes defined him in his grandeur. Karnwyr was an outcast, like him, a brother killer.

There was something refreshing in their solitude. Bishop felt as if he was alone with his mirror reflection yet even Karnwyr, his beastilian counterpart found someone to follow. The need to form packs was deep etched into any wolf, into any hot-blooded predator but the human did not understand this. The grim man didn't admit to feeling sorrow, rather began feeling an even greater anger at himself, at the weakness for becoming dependant to a female.

Karnwyr howled for him.

* * *

Khelgar was storming through the forest, loud, angry and without forethought. His axe took out any branches or vines that dared stand in his way. Weightless, in only a light shirt he walked on. He needed to get Elanee so they at least all have each other, that way, perhaps, this mission wasn't doomed. After storming on for a good hour he finally stopped, breathing heavy and shaking where he stood. He was aware it had nothing to do with the mission, he just didn't want to remain alone.

He could always return to the Ironfist Stronghold but that wasn't home any more, nothing held him there. Khelgar was coming to the conclusion he was afraid of being lonely. It wasn't a conclusion he wanted to make and he'd rather have downed a tankard of ale than thought about it but that was how it was. He sigh loudly falling back to sit on a stump, massaging his temples with a free hand.

When he looked up again he shivered in shock before jumping up fists at ready.

The hooded creature almost floated, half-suspended in air. The cloak was mossy, heavy and long, hid both hands and armor, wrapped around the creature as if it were wings. A hood hid any inch of a face, a silver chain dangling from its front binding it to a silver rune buckle on the chest.

"What are ya? Sneaking up on me like that?"

Khelgar noticed the man's bow was still on his back. He had never seen a longbow of such form or such size, it was probably taller than him. The hooded man did not answer.

"Khelgar!" The dwarf turned to the sound of Elanee's voice and saw the thin woman running toward him. When he turned again, the hooded man was gone.

Khelgar took a few steps back.

"Pointy ears, is that, is it really you?"

The woman smiled, apparently unharmed and wrapped in a similar mossy robe.

"Yes, I'm sorry I vanished as I did but it wasn't without reason."

"Aye? And just what was that reason?! Do you have any idea what happened?" Now that he was sure she was fine and that it was in fact Elanee Khelgar let his anger and his frustration show. He was furious at the woman, "_perhaps_," he thought, "_if she had been there Raviel might not have died." _

Elanee paused for a moment.

"I was… While we rested, I was last on watch. There was a small band of Harpers following us; they brought news of another band of Luskan soldiers coming from the north. I went with them to eliminate the threat and bring news of this as an eye witness to Raviel and later Nasher."

"Aye, a shame that didn't help us."

"What do you mean? The ritual failed, I can feel it… The nature here, it is as if it has been healed."

Khelgar shook his head. The elf was so excited, she seemed genuinely happy to have helped them.

"Raviel is dead."

"W-what?" A paleness spread through her face and the smile vanished from her lips in an instant. "That, that cannot be."

"It is." Khelgar sigh "They'll burn her in a couple of hours. They would have done it sooner but Casavir insisted she be given proper rites and I agree she deserved em."

"No, you do not understand Khelgar. Raviel must be alive he told me."

"Blast it-weren't you listening! She fell just after the battle-"

"Than something is wrong."

"Wrong? By the Gods, have they hit yer head or somethin'. She's dead, the entire band's falling apart! Bishop left, Casavir is taking Shandra back to Neverwinter to report to Nasher. He was ordered even though he wanted to stay for the burial-"

Elanee listened unfocused. She met Belavel only a few hours earlier. The intimidating elf accompanied her only thus far. He spoke little words but enough that Elanee understood his interest in Raviel went by far beyond duty. He even made her promise to watch her. It was an old ritual where an elf gave part of his eternity to save another…if she were dead Belavel would have known. Elanee began biting her lower lip, wishing Belavel had revealed more.

"Khelgar, we have to hurry or they'll burn her alive."

"What? What are you-"

But Elanee was already running, frenzied to Crossroad Keep.

Her skin burned, her bones shook as if crumbled, as if she had been torn apart and the flesh could not hold itself together. Her eyes opened but the same shade of absolute black remained. Feeling the flat, sensationless ground around her Raviel was uncertain weather she was blind or truly lost in the blackness of shadow. Passage to the other realm was never like this, there was little sound if anything; a faint, muffled moan of wind somewhere in the distance.

As she began to crawl forward a pale light blinded her for a moment. When she opened her eyes again she was on the floor of Crossroad Keep. She could see no color just blurred shapes in black and white. The furniture, rubble, floors and even the walls were not still but shivering, blurred, as if trembling in their place. This sensation of an earthquake made it hard to stand. Her body lie on the cot, hollow. The Spirit Shaman could sense no life, no spirits near it, only wraiths and shadows left behind by war, famine and pestilence of ancient times.

The muffled sound of wind and perhaps whispers became louder and Raviel felt weaker farther she was from her body. As she gazed back, the corpse had turned its head and the gapping blackness of eyes was gazing at her. Casavir was leaving the room and Shandra sat in his place. This entire change of scene came in barely an instant. The Shaman shivered where she stood, her eyes searching for something sharp and tangible; a spirit, a complete being, but she found nothing. She feared to look from her body again jet she attempted to grasp the knobs of the doors and found she could not leave the room. Gathering her courage she gazed back at the body, a shadow rose from it, born from the black in the hollows of her eyes. Her clothes were changed and there was no one left in the room.

The creature was shapeless, unlike the shadows she knew, she could not gaze straight at it but only at its outskirts where light was swallowed within it. There was no smell and no sensation upon the skin…nothing material…only sound. Screams, moans, veils and whimpers twisted and deformed emanated from its centre.

Nothing she read, saw or heard could prepare her for this. Indeed she had learned to barter with spirits but this was something else, it was not natural, it had no will or focus just devoured all light around it. She understood immediately this creature had something to do with Garius's ritual but she couldn't even guess its use or its reason.

Upon focusing the blackness of it faded…revealing singular spirits trapped within. Without any other course of action possible Raviel made a decision. She would pull them out of the blackness just as something or someone pulled her.

* * *

Cold bit his cheeks and his tattered cloak was placed in the pack so it would not break twigs and reveal where he was headed. Bishop was free. There was only one more thing he had to do.

Kill Duncan


End file.
